


Chase This Fire Away

by 64907



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: shoexchange, Escort Service, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Multi, Romantic Comedy, Sharing a Bed, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10052417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: “Think about it,” Nino told him. “Hawaii. All expenses paid. All you have to do is to show up at the party and at the wedding with your fake boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gomushroom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/gifts).



> Originally written for Sho Exchange. Warnings for jokes that are only funny to me, miscommunication which I make up for by writing detailed porn, gratuitous descriptions of Jun and Sho’s bodies, and finally, for dissing on Jun’s [Louboutin shoes](https://twitter.com/MinaJunxoxo/status/796857515711467520). Huge thanks to lapetit-chou and to Angel who looked over this.
> 
> The playlist on loop as I worked on this had the following songs:
> 
>   * Foster The People - I Would Do Anything For You
>   * Morgan Page ft. Greg Laswell - Addicted
>   * Jukebox The Ghost - Somebody
>   * Arashi - Ai wo Sakebe
>   * Cider Sky - Pieces
>   * Here We Go Magic - How Do I Know
>   * Of Monsters and Men - Lakehouse
>   * Jon Boden, Sam Sweeney, Ben Coleman - How Long Will I Love You
>   * The Cranberries - Sunday
> 

> 
> This fic’s title is from [this version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wt89cgjfFWk) of Lakehouse by Of Monsters and Men.

“I’m not doing this.”  
  
Beside him, Nino sighs, and it’s a sound that seems partly annoyed, but mostly of the ‘I-knew-this-would-be-difficult’ kind. The one that is still fond of Sho in his own Nino way.  
  
“You’re literally a click away, Sho-chan,” Nino points out. He’s hovering on Sho’s shoulder, face too close but not uncomfortable because it’s Nino and personal space is a foreign concept to him. “Just enter the portal.”  
  
Sho faces Nino, his finger freezing on the laptop’s trackpad. “I thought you said you knew a guy.”  
  
“I do know a guy,” Nino insists, which isn’t surprising. Nino _always_ knows a guy. Nino had a guy for pretty much everything. “But I need you to key in your info before we notify my guy.”  
  
“Can’t you just come with me instead?” Sho asks, still hesitating on clicking the Enter that his pointer is hovering on for nearly five minutes now.  
  
“And pretend I like the sun, the outside world? No one would buy it. Aiba-shi’s there, and he definitely wouldn’t believe it.” Nino shakes his head. “Much as I’d love to be in this wedding, duty calls. I did withdraw a couple of bills, though, for the soon-to-be-wedded.” He clicks his tongue. “Imagine that.”  
  
“Terrifying,” Sho says without emotion. “I still don’t think I should bring someone along.”  
  
This time, Nino finally groans, forehead now resting on Sho’s shoulder. “Sho-chan, just click the damn Enter button and we’ll see if this is something you can stomach. The guy I know can’t enter into an arrangement unless it goes via their database, so I just really need you to key in your personal information and I’ll take it from there.”  
  
“You mean you just need my credit card number,” Sho corrects.  
  
Nino hooks his chin on Sho’s shoulder, smiling. “Well, I sure as hell am not paying for an escort service in your stead, despite it being my idea.”  
  
Sho turns away and after a couple more seconds of hesitation, hits the “Enter” button and waits. The homepage begins loading, a rather cheery tune playing as background music. The logo appears, a tacky variety of a Macromedia Flash output.  
  
_Cosmos_ , it reads in formal looking script. _An upscale escort service with over fifty elite courtesans of a particular standard._  
  
“There might be a jumpscare so watch out,” Nino jokes, but Sho’s too busy reading already. There’s a website introduction detailing what an escort service is and what the regular rates are. There are paragraphs that assure Sho he’d be able to find what he was looking for, and that his feedback would be taken seriously once the whole affair is over.  
  
The rates listed are not out of Sho’s budget, but he has feeling Nino’s guy doesn’t charge the regular rates.  
  
“I’m not doing this,” Sho says for the second time.  
  
“Just click the models tab,” Nino says, pointing to said tab. Sho is grateful he’s not using a touchscreen laptop. “Let’s find the guy I know.”  
  
Sho does, and as he waits for the HQ photos to begin loading, he looks back on what brought him in this predicament. Ohno Satoshi, one of his high school friends, was going to get married and he’d picked Hawaii for the venue. His bachelor party is happening a week prior to the wedding, organized by his bestman Aiba Masaki.  
  
While Sho knows Aiba and Ohno care for him, he’s aware he’d be the butt of the jokes if he doesn’t bring someone along. With Ohno on his way to settling down, Aiba in a stable relationship of seven years, and Nino having a monogamous relationship with his bank account, Sho knows he’s the only one left behind. He’s thirty-five, and a single man at thirty-five is going to raise a couple of questions. Especially at a wedding.  
  
Questions Sho would rather not answer truthfully, because he’s going to Hawaii for Ohno. He wants all the focus to be on Ohno, to attract less attention to himself as much as possible. If Sho goes alone, he’d be set up with another single guest, probably one of Haru-chan’s friends. Sho doesn’t want to be rude, but not all of Ohno’s guests knows about his preferences.  
  
Nino’s solution is simple: have Sho bring along a boyfriend, to blend in with everybody else. It’s just typical of Nino to suggest that kind of thing.  
  
Except that Nino is totally serious this time.  
  
The problem: Sho currently doesn’t have a boyfriend. The last one had been nearly a year ago, and they parted ways because it had been the right thing to do at the time.  
  
Which brought on Nino’s second solution: find him a boyfriend.  
  
“Think about it, Sho-yan,” Nino told him after he presented the idea, heedless of Sho gaping at him. “Hawaii. All expenses paid. All you have to do is to show up at the party and at the wedding with your fake boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?”  
  
A hundred warning signs had popped up in Sho’s mind at that question, but he focused on the most crucial point (in his opinion) of Nino’s suggestion.  
  
“How about the fact that we’re getting someone from an escort service?” Sho asked.  
  
Nino only smiled, like he seemed ready to handle Sho’s hysterics and initial shock at the entire idea.  
  
“So? It’s legal. Escort service is a legitimate business.” Nino shrugged. “And besides, if he’s in that line of work, that makes it all the better. It means he can _act_ the part, which is exactly what you need in order to convince all the people out there. Especially Aiba-shi. Oh-chan’s no problem; he’d be too busy giving Haru-chan adoring looks, but Aiba-shi’s a tougher nut to crack.”  
  
“I know that,” Sho said, “but why can’t you just—?”  
  
“Me? Pose as your boyfriend?” Nino laughed, muffling his giggles at the crook of his elbow. “You’re cute, Sho-chan, but aside from the fact that I have to shoot something overseas, do you seriously think anyone would believe we’re together?”  
  
Sho didn’t reply, and Nino just gave him a knowing look.  
  
“Exactly,” Nino said, leaning back on his chair and looking triumphant. For someone who’s acting as their job, Sho can’t comprehend why Nino wouldn’t agree. Sho would consider forking his own money for it; Nino always seemed more accepting when a few ten thousand yens were presented. Besides, if they just needed a good actor, Nino can definitely play the part.  
  
“Also, Sho-yan,” Nino said, examining his cuticles, “no offense but...you can’t afford me.”  
  
“Asshole,” Sho retorted, resulting to another chuckle from Nino.  
  
It took Sho a week to wrap his head around Nino’s proposal, three more days to reason with himself and to weigh the pros and cons. The day after that, Nino simply showed up in his apartment, demanding that he opened his laptop.  
  
Which brings them to the present.  
  
Nino is squinting beside Sho, telling him to scroll every now and then. Just to annoy Nino, Sho scrolls too fast at one point, leading to Nino nearly bursting a hole through his eardrum with his shrill order of “Go back up! Back up!”  
  
Sho does, then Nino starts to _cackle_. The one with his mouth wide open and head thrown back, like he’s so delighted and everything is going according to his plan.  
  
In hindsight, that seems to be case.  
  
“Of course he’s a VIP,” Nino says mostly to himself, head shaking in genuine amusement. “Of course.”  
  
Sho scans the faces onscreen, finding eight VIPs listed. All of them are seriously attractive men that for a moment, Sho wonders why they are working for an escort service and not as idols or romance drama leads.  
  
He gives Nino a look. “Which one is the guy you know?” He’s starting to have a bad feeling about Nino’s plan.  
  
“You can’t click him unless you register.” Nino waves his hand in front of the laptop screen. “That’s what VIP means. So you go make your account, I’ll make coffee, then we book the guy I know.”  
  
“You’re not even telling me who he is?” Sho asks, watching Nino head to the direction of his kitchen.  
  
“Do you trust me?” Nino asks back, head tilted to one side.  
  
Sho considers it for a _long_ while. “Right now,” he answers truthfully, “no.”  
  
Nino laughs like he expected Sho’s answer. “Trust me, Sho-yan.” He winks. “The guy I know? Definitely can play the part. Hella attractive too. Now let me make that coffee.”  
  
Sho groans as Nino turns away, and after a full minute of contemplating, he decides to quit chickening out and clicks “Register”.  
  
There’s no registration fee, anyway.  
  
\--  
  
After two steaming cups of coffee and a lot of pushes from Nino, Sho’s profile is complete including his credit card details. He takes some time to painstakingly read every rule of the agency, in case he’s really pushing through with what Nino is suggesting.  
  
_Cosmos_ requires that every member who avail of their services adhere to a couple of house rules, outlined neatly according to importance. At the bottom of the list, there’s a note that says every model in the database might have their own specific set of rules, and whoever books them should agree to them without question.  
  
Sho takes all of this in, demanding a third cup from Nino, who makes it without complaint. When Nino returns and prods him to proceed, Sho begins to fill in a request form, detailing what he wants from the service itself. He keys in _a two-week trip to Hawaii for a wedding_ and hits “Submit”.  
  
When he’s done, Nino smiles, looks over the information once more, then whips out his phone and calls someone.  
  
Sho tries not to eavesdrop, but it’s difficult when he knows Nino is already negotiating on his behalf.  
  
“We’re done here; he’s registered, added details, blah blah. Are you on your database?” Nino asks whoever he’s talking to, then he laughs. “You’re such a sassy bastard. Fine. My friend’s name is Sakurai Sho. Can you find him?” Nino pauses, then his nose scrunches. “Oh? He has to book you?” He pauses, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Hang on.”  
  
Then Nino hands him the phone with an expectant look, while Sho goggles at Nino’s outstretched hand.  
  
“He’s waiting,” Nino mouths, and there’s a smirk that’s threatening to tug at the corner of his lips, Sho knows.  
  
Sho takes the phone from Nino like it’s going to bite him, putting it gingerly against his ear. “Hello. This is Sakurai.”  
  
“Sakurai-san,” the person on the other line says—a man, definitely a man. There’s an airy confidence to the way he pronounces Sho’s surname, and there’s a certain charm to his voice that Sho can’t process at the moment. “Nino has informed me of your present predicament.”  
  
Nino, he said with a touch of familiarity. All of Sho’s doubts about Nino knowing a guy disappears: Nino definitely knows this one—this formal, polite, but straight to the point guy.  
  
The kind that successfully gets Sho’s attention.  
  
“Ah yes,” Sho says, a little embarrassed, glaring at Nino who’s watching him, amusement dancing on his impish face. “I understand that traveling overseas is not really part of your services?”  
  
“It’s not.” Whoever Nino’s guy is, he doesn’t mirror Sho’s nervousness. This must be just an ordinary call for him, now that Sho gives it a thought.  
  
Sho faces Nino, tucking the phone away from his mouth. “It’s not part of their services.”  
  
“Keep talking to him,” Nino tells him.  
  
Sho puts the phone back against his ear. He opens his mouth, then he realizes he doesn’t know the guy’s name.  
  
“Uh,” he begins, and he hears a questioning hum on the other line, “I don’t know your name.” He glares at Nino as he says this, and Nino just snickers behind his coffee mug.  
  
There’s a sigh from the other side. “Of course Nino didn’t tell you.” Sho hears a shuffle of movement, followed by “Are you on the website, Sakurai-san?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho says, focusing back on his laptop. “Nino said earlier you were a VIP, and I think I’m not eligible to book any of those?” He looks at the red text marking eight VIPs. Red means it’s someone he can’t book yet, but his attention is not really on that right now.  
  
Which one of these men is the one he’s talking to? Sho looks at their faces, tries to find a match for the voice. Is he this guy named _Ikuta_ with a rather toothy grin? Or this _Nishikido_ fellow with tanned skin but a bright smile?  
  
“No,” Sho hears and he bristles; it’s like whoever he’s talking to heard what was in his head. “No, Sakurai-san, you have to be a member for a couple of months for that to work. It doesn’t matter. I’m handling it.”  
  
As soon as Sho says that, he receives a notification in the email address he specified. He switches tabs and checks it, finds an email that informs him that after his request form was processed, the database has suggested one escort that he can book should he wish it.  
  
There’s a link at the end of the email, and Sho knows it leads to the profile of whoever he’s speaking to.  
  
“There should be an email by now,” the man on the other line says, which makes Sho focus on his voice.  
  
“I’ve just received it,” Sho confirms, finger hesitating on clicking the link. Nino is hovering over his shoulder again, not ashamed to eavesdrop and snoop at the same time.  
  
“Well?” he hears next, “Do you know my name now?”  
  
“Just click it,” Nino hisses beside him, but not loud enough for the phone to pick up.  
  
Sho taps on the trackpad a little forcefully for show. It takes a while to load, but when it does, the first thing that spills out of Sho’s mouth is a completely honest, unadulterated “oh shit.”  
  
“Is something the matter?” the person on the other line asks, and Sho wants to kick himself. Beside him, Nino’s laughing, covering half of his face with his tiny hands.  
  
“No, everything’s fine,” Sho says, unable to take his eyes away from the profile currently open on his laptop screen.  
  
More than fine, Sho thinks. The photo is from the chest above, and Sho takes in the pale complexion, full lips, long eyelashes, large eyes, and sharp cheekbones that are made more obvious given the lighting.  
  
This can’t be the guy Nino knows. This can’t be the one he’s talking to. This is the type of person that girls from Japan wouldn’t hesitate screaming their heads off for, the kind of face that’d be fitting to be on an uchiwa or on a billboard or on the covers of magazines.  
  
He reads the name and runs it over and over in his head. _Matsumoto Jun_. His profile lists him as thirty-three and also from Tokyo. Sho quickly scans his favorites and reads kani cream croquettes, soba, and sushi.  
  
“Sakurai-san?” the man—no, Matsumoto; he has a name now—asks from the other line. “Is everything all right?”  
  
Sho pointedly ignores Nino’s quiet chuckles beside him, trying to get used to Matsumoto’s voice. “Yes. Matsumoto-san. I...you said your agency doesn’t cater to overseas trips.”  
  
“I did say that,” Matsumoto confirms, and it’s there again, that confidence. Only that Sho has a face to put to it, and it’s a rather strong face. Everything in Matsumoto’s face is large—eyes, nose, mouth, the width and thickness of his eyebrows, even his ears.  
  
It makes for a _very_ attractive combination. Hella, to use Nino’s words earlier. Nino’s prone to exaggeration, but the only thing that is currently exaggerated in Sho’s opinion are Matsumoto’s features.  
  
Features he can’t look away from.  
  
“But I owe Nino a favor, Sakurai-san. Totally outside the agency’s parameters, but I can pull some strings, no problem. That is, if you’re still willing?” Matsumoto asks, his voice laced with just the right amount of hesitation for him to come off as sincere.  
  
“You’ve read the request?” Sho asks, hoping his voice comes off as calm and composed.  
  
“I have. A two-week Hawaiian trip to attend a wedding. I haven’t been to Hawaii in a while,” Matsumoto says.  
  
“What else did Nino tell you, Matsumoto-san?”  
  
“That you’re looking for someone to accompany you. That you’re his good friend, has known you since you were teenagers, and he can vouch that you won’t try anything funny or anything outside the rules of the agency. That you are, and I quote, ‘a rich-ass bachelor who can afford my services, but not in the sugar daddy levels’.”  
  
Sho coughs at that, then he gives Nino his most threatening glare. Nino only blinks innocently at him, even mouths a “What?” like he did nothing wrong.  
  
“He’s right,” Sho says after he recovers. “Nino’s right.”  
  
“That you’re not a sugar daddy?” Matsumoto asks, and Sho nearly drops the phone. He must’ve let out a surprised squeak or something, because the next thing he hears is Matsumoto’s laugh, rich and amused. Sho wonders how it’d look like if Matsumoto was smiling in his photo.  
  
Then he realizes with a jolt that that might be a dangerous path for him to follow, considering how outrageously arresting Matsumoto Jun’s photo already is.  
  
“I’m just teasing, Sakurai-san.” There’s playfulness in his tone now. It’s probably second nature to him.  
  
Sho sighs. “You and Nino seem to have that in common.”  
  
“And yet we’re both friends with him, as it appears. I can accompany you to Hawaii, Sakurai-san. I know you know that now. I believe there’s another aspect to your request, one you didn’t disclose when you availed our services.”  
  
Sho blinks. “Nino didn’t tell you?”  
  
“He did. I just would like to hear it from you personally. With Nino, I can never tell if he’s telling the truth or not. I’m sure you understand.”  
  
Sho really does. He takes a deep breath, organizes his thoughts first, and finally says, “I need you to act as my boyfriend in those two weeks.”  
  
He says all of that in one breath. Nino’s laughing in his periphery, his entire face hidden behind his hands, but Sho ignores him, turning his back. “The celebration is with my friends from high school. Nino’s friends too, but he’s got to shoot for some Hollywood film so he can’t make it. Thing is, there’s a bachelor party. And I’m only two years younger than the groom, so as soon as they’re done picking on him, they’d turn to me next, and I—”  
  
“Sakurai-san,” Matsumoto says, cutting off his rambling. “I understand. It’s not a very unusual request.”  
  
“It’s not?” Sho wonders how many times Matsumoto have had to pose as someone’s boyfriend.  
  
“It’s not something that I get a couple of times in a month, no, but nothing out of the ordinary. I had to be someone’s estranged brother once. And before that, a teacher.”  
  
“People come to escort services for that?”  
  
“It’s called service for a reason,” Matsumoto answers, and he sounds like he’s smiling. “You’d find me agreeable to what you’re asking for, Sakurai-san.”  
  
“Will you charge higher for that?” Sho asks.  
  
“For an overseas trip? Yes. But nothing you can’t afford, I believe.”  
  
Sho finds himself nodding. Then he realizes Matsumoto can’t see it. “If I click this button, I’m booking you?”  
  
“That’s how it works, yes. It would direct you to a billing statement, calculated according to my hourly charges and for the duration of your reservation. You should get a copy of it as well, sent straight to your email. Our agency only requires you to pay half for now, the rest when the arrangement is concluded.”  
  
That sounds fair, and Sho appreciates Matsumoto reminding him of it. He has already forgotten all the terms and conditions he agreed to during the signup process. “And if I click this button, there’s no dropping out of it?”  
  
“Do you want to attend this wedding, Sakurai-san?”  
  
“I do.” With Nino not making it, Sho knows it’ll make Ohno sad if he won’t be there, too. Aiba will never stop making puppy eyes at him, and Nino will appeal to his conscience, perhaps even say that Sho put his hard work for nothing. “I really do.”  
  
“Then you have yourself a boyfriend,” Matsumoto says, like it’s such a normal thing to say. “If you click that button.”  
  
Sho stares at Matsumoto’s photo that’s staring back, at his half-lidded brown eyes which are either products of Photoshop or the real deal. A part of him itches to find out, if Matsumoto is indeed as attractive as his photo suggests or if it was just taken by a talented photographer.  
  
He clicks the button before he could convince himself otherwise.  
  
Sho gives it a few seconds, looking at the billing statement that he got redirected to. It’s nothing he can’t afford, but Matsumoto does charge higher than regular escorts. Sho shuts his eyes and clicks “Book” after going over the fees once more.  
  
This better be worth Sho’s money and Sho’s sanity.  
  
The words “Transaction completed” flash at the middle of the screen, and Sho doesn’t have to look to know that Nino’s grinning wide beside him.  
  
“I’ll be in your care then, Sakurai-san,” Matsumoto suddenly says on the other line.  
  
“Likewise,” Sho answers, wondering what it is in hell that Nino has managed to talk him into doing this time.  
  
\--  
  
Sho swats at Nino’s arm repeatedly for that sugar daddy comment. And afterwards, he plops on the couch and buries his face in his hands.  
  
“What, are you getting cold feet now? It’s done,” Nino says, taking a seat beside him. “Even your bank knows it’s done.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me that he’s the guy you know?” Sho asks, lifting his head from his hands. “Have you, have you—”  
  
“Seen him? Met him? Talked to him? I know Jun-kun. He’s a professional. I once had to hire him because my manager came down with a flu but I needed to audition for a certain role.”  
  
Sho stares at Nino, eyes going wide. “You had him pose as your manager?” With a face like Matsumoto’s, Sho’s surprised people bought it.  
  
“Technically yes, but what I really made him do was charm the casting director into picking me. Got the role, in the end. Even won an award for it.” Nino winks. “Jun-kun’s good. Just be honest with him, tell him what you expect, and he’ll deliver. That’s how he is.”  
  
“Nino, do you understand what I made him agree to? He agreed to be my fake boyfriend so Aiba-chan would pester someone else.”  
  
“Yes, I understand. Jun-kun’s attractive. Not as attractive as me, but he’ll do.”  
  
Sho chooses not to comment on Nino’s self-absorbed reasoning. Instead, he focuses on the more important things. “I have to name my expectations, you said.”  
  
Nino nods. “If Jun-kun knows what you want, he’d be able to make it happen. He’s a bit like me in that aspect.”  
  
“We have to _pretend_ ,” Sho says, staring at Nino because how is it that Nino is so calm about this? “Satoshi-kun is going to pay for the ticket of someone who’s not really my boyfriend, and I already feel guilty about that.”  
  
“That sounds like a you problem,” Nino says unhelpfully.  
  
“See!” Sho swats at Nino’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “This is exactly what you made me do! You told me you had a solution!”  
  
“I did. I do,” Nino answers smoothly. “Just calm down and play along. Jun-kun would know what to do. And you just have to play along.”  
  
“I’m not sure I can act that well,” Sho says, unable to put his mind to it. The mere thought seems so absurd but it’s actually happening to him. He’s paying someone to act. To divert people’s attention elsewhere, to have them focus on Ohno. It’s for the greater good, but Sho still feels awful about asking Ohno to pay for a complete stranger.  
  
An escort who happens to be Nino’s friend, but Nino’s not attending.  
  
Wait. Sho blinks. Nino is _not_ attending.  
  
He faces Nino, meeting his eyes.  
  
Nino smirks. “Finally caught on?”  
  
“Do you have a ticket to Hawaii, Ninomiya?” Sho demands, hating that Nino put him through so much instead of just saying it outright.  
  
“I RSVPed, you know.” Nino pulls out his phone, fingers tapping away. “Then my manager called and told me I got the role. I didn’t know I was getting the part. I thought it was my senpai who’d get it. So Oh-chan already booked a ticket for me.”  
  
Nino shows him his phone containing details about a ticket that has a seat that happens to be beside Sho’s. Ohno booked in numbers, but he must’ve taken note of Nino’s need to appear incognito (being an actor and all) because only he and Sho are boarding this particular flight.  
  
“So no worries about a ticket,” Nino says, locking his phone and smiling at him. “Jun-kun can use mine. I already informed Oh-chan about it, that I’d transfer the ticket to whoever you’re bringing along. He said he’d handle the technicalities.”  
  
Of course Nino already told Ohno that Sho has someone with him. Of course.  
  
Sho groans. One problem solved, but here comes another. “They’d be expecting now.”  
  
“Naturally. Don’t worry, I didn’t describe him. I want them to have the similar expression your face had when you saw his profile photo. What did I tell you? Hella attractive, right?”  
  
“You are the worst,” Sho complains, shaking his head. He’s not the least bit surprised that Nino knew his type (“the really good-looking ones, so are you sure you don’t have the hots for me?” was how Nino put it once), but Matsumoto is confident and appealing on top of having such a striking face. He’s way different compared to all the guys Sho once went for.  
  
“I won’t survive those two weeks,” Sho says, entirely convinced of it.  
  
Nino pats him on the back. “Come on, Sho-chan. Focus on the wedding. You’re there for the wedding. With a really handsome escort in tow, but who’s to know aside from you, me, and Jun-kun? It’ll be our little secret.”  
  
Sho meets Nino’s eyes and frowns. “You’d totally tell Aiba-chan.”  
  
“And spoil the fun? No, I want him to figure things out on his own,” Nino says, waving his hands. “If you guys manage to be so convincing that he’d be totally fooled, it’s something I can gloat about. It’s like it’s me who has tricked Aiba-shi. Indirectly.”  
  
Sho will never understand Nino’s unwavering desires to one-up Aiba in everything.  
  
“I’m going to have to ask him to do PDA, right?” Sho asks, a bit horrified at the thought. Surely there is something wrong about that.  
  
Nino pats his thigh this time, smiling at him. “Jun-kun’s a pro. Trust me, he’d know what to do. Just play along.”  
  
\--  
  
“Play along” is officially one of the dumbest pieces of advice Sho ever received in his life, and that’s factoring in that time in junior high that Aiba had suggested they should try tasting flavored condoms to know if the flavors were truly honest to their labels.  
  
But Sho supposes he is dumber, because he finds himself having no other choice but to follow said advice.  
  
Not the flavored condom suggestion, but Nino’s.  
  
Sho is currently standing by the baggage check-in at Narita, glancing at his phone every now and then. Sho would’ve preferred that he meet Matsumoto beforehand, but the guy had a couple of commitments scheduled. Apparently he was in-demand, but Matsumoto’s excuse was that he had to free up his schedule by cramming some of his appointments. He kept apologizing to Sho though, and he sounded sincere enough that Sho is not holding it against him.  
  
But Matsumoto is cutting it close. He only has a minute left before Sho sends Nino a message, to grumble to his friend about an escort’s tardiness.  
  
“Sakurai-san?” Sho hears behind him, and he turns, finding himself looking at Matsumoto Jun in the flesh.  
  
He didn’t expect Matsumoto to be of similar height to him. He’s definitely broader than Sho; his chest and shoulders are a little prominent under the plaid shirt he’s wearing. Matsumoto has one hand on a trolley luggage behind him, a hand-carry bag slung on one shoulder, and a pair of sunglasses in his free hand.  
  
His skin is not as perfect as his photo made it out to be; there are marks left by acne that littered his cheeks, the curve of his jaw. And yet, he still makes for a stunning sight: with his high cheekbones, bright eyes, and—  
  
“Sakurai-san?” Matsumoto says, and Sho’s eyes snap back to his face. Matsumoto is smiling a little, and Sho realizes that he’s been caught staring.  
  
He reddens; he can’t help it. He tries to make up for his embarrassing display by extending his hand in greeting. “Sakurai Sho. I’ll be in your care for the next few days.”  
  
“I should be the one saying that. It’s my pleasure to finally meet you,” Matsumoto says, shaking Sho’s hand with a firm grip. It’s then that Sho notices how truly pale Matsumoto is. “I’m sorry if I was late. I couldn’t find you at first.”  
  
Sho blinks at that, brows furrowing. Then he remembers that all he gave Matsumoto was his name, what clothes he’s wearing, and where would he be waiting. There are a lot of people wearing bucket hats in the airport, now that Sho looks around.  
  
“Oh,” he says, feeling apologetic now. “How were you able to find—?”  
  
“Lucky guess,” Matsumoto says with a lopsided smile. “I looked for the one person who seems like he’s waiting for someone who’s late.”  
  
Sho looks away at that. He really feels awful now. “I’m sorry. You should’ve asked for a picture, you know. So you’d know how I look like.”  
  
“I prefer not knowing my clients’ faces before I meet them in person. That gets rid of any expectations on my part,” Matsumoto explains, gesturing behind Sho. “We should get going. We don’t want to be late for the boarding.”  
  
“Yes, of course,” Sho says, leading the way to the baggage counter.  
  
They spend a couple of minutes in silence after that, occasionally interrupted by giving monosyllabic answers to the counter attendant as they hand over their passports.  
  
“How should I address you?” Matsumoto asks as they watch their luggages being weighed and tagged accordingly. “I can’t keep calling you Sakurai-san once we’re there.”  
  
“Everyone calls me Sho-chan,” Sho tells him, trying not to focus too much on Matsumoto’s scent. He expected a spicy cologne that’d irritate his nose, but instead, there was a whiff of something that reminds Sho of the sea. “Nino calls me Sho-yan if he needs something. Satoshi-kun calls me Sho-kun.”  
  
“Would Sho-san be all right?” Matsumoto asks, not looking at him as he bows in thanks, accepting his passport back from the attendant. “Or would that be too formal?”  
  
Sho shakes his head. “That’s okay. How should I address you?”  
  
“I’m comfortable with my clients calling me by my name,” Matsumoto says as they take the escalator to the second floor, to wait at their respective gate. “Nino calls me Jun-kun, though.”  
  
“Jun…-san?” Sho tries, trying to get used to it. Something about saying it makes him feel weird, like it’s not his to say and he hasn’t earned the right to say it despite having paid for Matsumoto’s services.  
  
Matsumoto smiles, this time showing his teeth. His _perfect_ teeth, Sho notes, but his eyes gravitate to the small dot under Matsumoto’s bottom lip, something he never noticed before.  
  
How many beauty marks does this guy have?  
  
“Feels weird to call you that way,” Sho explains, when they’re finally seated near their gate.  
  
“Some of my friends call me Matsujun,” Matsumoto offers. “Would you be more comfortable with that?”  
  
It’s a portmanteau, one that Sho can easily roll around his tongue for reasons unknown. “Yes. Matsujun it is, then.”  
  
Matsumoto smiles, and he surprises Sho by pulling out a paperback copy of The Divine Comedy from his hand-carry luggage. “Well then. We have a little over eight hours until we get to Hawaii. Ample time for us to corroborate our story, Sho-san. So I’ll be reading first, if you don’t mind.”  
  
“No,” Sho says, waving his hand. “Please go ahead.”  
  
Matsumoto’s lithe fingers gracefully flip pages until he gets to where his bookmark is. Sho stops watching him and begins watching everybody else, seeing families with children and some mothers trying to calm their agitated babies.  
  
He’s grateful Ohno had the foresight of reserving two seats by the window and not two seats from the four-seat row situated at the middle of the plane. But then again, it might be Haru-chan who’s behind it; Ohno wouldn’t consider such circumstances if he had been the one booking seats for a Boeing 777.  
  
Sho’s not particular about his flight accommodations, especially if they are free, but with someone stupidly attractive traveling with him, he finds himself focusing on the technical aspects of their flight. Will he be spending the next eight hours fidgeting beside Matsumoto? He knows he’s got the window seat, and while the view is bound to be spectacular, the take off part will give him the nerves.  
  
He doesn’t want to make his companion uncomfortable; Matsumoto may not know much about him, but Sho doesn’t want the guy to think that he currently has no one in his life because he’s a weirdo. Sho’s had enough of assumptions.  
  
His phone rings and he mumbles an apology as he pulls it out from his pocket. Matsumoto waves a hand and resumes reading, while Sho stares at Nino’s name as the caller ID.  
  
“Hi Nino,” Sho says, deciding to pick up.  
  
“I was hoping to catch you before your flight,” Nino says, and he sounds like he’s chewing something crunchy. “Guess I made it. How’s Jun-kun?”  
  
“He’s fine,” Sho says before he can think on it, then he shuts his eyes and breathes out. “We’re fine. What do you want?”  
  
Nino spends a few seconds laughing, then his voice reverts to serious. “Just calling to give you a warning.”  
  
“Warning? What are you talking about?”  
  
“Oh, you know. You’re going to the bachelor party, right? With Jun-kun in tow?”  
  
Sho doesn’t understand where this conversation is headed, but he indulges Nino anyway. “That’s the plan, yeah. What about it?”  
  
“Just giving you a heads up that one of Aiba-shi’s favorite questions once you’re seated on a table is the sex question.”  
  
The what? “Say that again.” Sho thinks he may have misheard it.  
  
“The sex question. You know, out of ten, how would you rate the sex life?” Nino’s snorting in laughter now, like he can see Sho’s face and can imagine how uncomfortable Sho is. “That’s his favorite. So when you set things up with Jun-kun and try to get your story straight, you might want to address that too.”  
  
Sho turns his back to Matsumoto, covering his mouth as he hisses, “I’m not asking him that!”  
  
“Then don’t. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I know Aiba-san. He’ll definitely ask that. Not to you, maybe, but best to warn Jun-kun about it.”  
  
“How do you expect me to say that to him?!” Sho asks, taking care not to raise his voice and alert Matsumoto. “I’m never asking that.”  
  
“Fine. If you want, I can ask for you. Give Jun-kun the phone,” Nino offers.  
  
“Absolutely not,” Sho says immediately.  
  
“You know, I can always call him after this.”  
  
“How about you don’t?”  
  
Nino laughs again, then he sighs. “All right. I won’t call him. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s going to be there, and you just have to be ready for it.”  
  
“I don’t think I’ll be ready, ever.”  
  
“Then do what I told you, Sho-chan,” Nino says, and he’s obviously smiling. “Leave it to Jun-kun and just play along. I’m cutting; bring home some Hawaiian souvenirs, okay?”  
  
Without waiting for a response, Nino ends the call.  
  
Sho stares at his phone, finds his own disbelieving face staring back.  
  
Play along.  
  
Easy for Nino to say.  
  
\--  
  
Matsumoto is thoughtful enough to help Sho put his hand-carry luggage in the overhead compartment when he caught Sho struggling with it as people walked to their seats. Sho thanks him for it and settles back on his seat.  
  
The plane itself is not cramped; Hawaii doesn’t have a high tourist revenue during this time of the year. Sho was kind of hoping Ohno would splurge and get him and Nino first-class tickets since Nino is an actor and all, but no such luck.  
  
But then again, even if Ohno got them in economy class, there are a few empty seats around them. Sho’s grateful for that; there’d be fewer people who can overhear the conversation he and Matsumoto are bound to have for most of the flight. Sho has to cram a year of a relationship in eight hours, and his head is beginning to hurt just by imagining it.  
  
“Sho-san,” Matsumoto says beside him, and Sho turns, sees Matsumoto watching him carefully. “Are you all right? You’re...gripping the armrests a little too tight, don’t you think?”  
  
Sho looks down and discovers it’s true, but he attributes it to the pilot’s announcement that they’re about to take off.  
  
“I’m okay,” he says, trying to wave off Matsumoto’s concern. “Just a little nervous.”  
  
Matsumoto’s head tilts to the side, and Sho would have found it cute if only he isn’t so jittery. “Are you uncomfortable with flying?”  
  
“Just before the plane takes off and lands,” Sho reassures him. “I don’t like the turbulence either. But it’ll all go away once we’re on air. I’ll be fine.”  
  
Matsumoto suddenly offers an outstretched hand to him, and Sho stares at it for a while.  
  
“I’ve been told it helps with the nerves,” Matsumoto explains, then he pries one of Sho’s hands from the armrest, holding it in his own. He laces their fingers together, and Sho finds that his touch is warm. “That it’s better when there’s someone with you as it happens.”  
  
Sho’s first instinct is to withdraw, but he knows he should get used to Matsumoto’s touch; they have to pretend to be a couple, after all. Matsumoto’s grip is comforting in an innocent way—not too tight, thumb rubbing soothingly against Sho’s own repeatedly. Sho finds himself focusing on it and not on the plane taking off, his breaths coming out measured and even as his body gradually relaxes.  
  
Sho turns to his companion and studies his face, the concern in his eyes.  
  
He’s much kinder than what his appearance suggests. His features give a different impression about him—aggressive, fierce, uncompromising. But Matsumoto seems far from that, with the way he volunteered to help assuage Sho’s acrophobia.  
  
Sho’s beginning to think he has booked someone quite unexpected.  
  
“I’ve also been told singing helps,” Matsumoto says, and Sho blinks.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Singing,” Matsumoto repeats. His expression doesn’t give anything away. “Or anything to take your mind off it. I’m not much of a singer...but…”  
  
“I don’t sing either,” Sho says, focusing on the conversation instead of the pilot’s announcements. “But I rap. Maybe Satoshi-kun will ask me to do that. He likes it when I rap.”  
  
Matsumoto laughs, his features becoming more pronounced. “Sorry, sorry.” He waves his other hand. “I just didn’t take you for a rapper, Sho-san.”  
  
Sho stares at Matsumoto, at the tiny smile playing on his lips. He seems truly tickled at the idea. “What else did Nino tell you about me?”  
  
“That you’re a diligent person. You’re a department manager in a company that hired you immediately after you graduated. You’re a busy man, but you make time for your friends. As Nino put it, ‘a hard worker who parties harder’.”  
  
Sho can feel his cheeks heating up, more so when Matsumoto’s smile grows wider.  
  
“Was Nino right?” Matsumoto asks, looking at him expectantly.  
  
Sho sighs. He can name a couple of incidents that led Nino to that conclusion, and they’re all drunken episodes. “I can hold my liquor more than Nino ever could, if you ever shared a drink or two with him.”  
  
“Hardly,” Matsumoto says, shrugging. “Nino rarely drinks in my presence. He says I’m the type who doesn’t want to go home if I get sufficiently inebriated.”  
  
Sho can’t help laughing at Matsumoto’s words, and he can feel the guy’s curious stare on him. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s just...you’re too formal with me. We have to look like we’re...you know, and you’re too formal.”  
  
“I’m just trying to make our paces match here, Sho-san,” Matsumoto explains. “You’ve been formal with me since we met. Didn’t you notice?”  
  
Sho nods; Matsumoto has a point. Sho’s been careful with the way he addresses the man, but they only have eight hours to be comfortable enough with each other. “I did notice. I’m sorry. I’m really trying since we have to pretend. It’s just that I don’t know much about you.”  
  
“You mean you know nothing about me,” Matsumoto corrects, and Sho shoots him an apologetic look. “It’s all right. We have eight hours to do something about that. As for pretending, I think we can cover that by taking small steps.” He raises their entwined hands for emphasis. “We’re already off to a good start. We’re on air already, and you haven’t noticed.”  
  
Sho faces the window and finds nothing but clear blue sky interspersed with thin wisps of clouds. He faces Matsumoto who gives a nod before extracting his hand away from Sho’s to unfasten his seatbelt.  
  
“Sho-san,” Matsumoto begins, waiting for him to get comfortable in his seat before continuing, “I need to know what would you have me do in order to convince your friends. They’re your friends; you must know where they’re going to look. I need to know what you’re comfortable with.”  
  
“Does that mean you’re comfortable with anything?” Sho asks. He doesn’t know much about Matsumoto’s job aside from the connotations that come with it. There are things Sho wants to know but has no idea how to ask.  
  
Matsumoto considers the question, his thumb stroking his nose. “Not with anything, but I’m sure that’s the same for both of us. I can’t give you anything unless you give me something first.”  
  
Sho decides to be direct. “I’m okay with holding hands. I think that’s usually what couples do.”  
  
“You think?” Matsumoto’s eyes narrow. “Forgive me for being bold, but how long has it been since you had someone?”  
  
“Nino wasn’t lying when he said I’m a hard worker,” Sho says as an answer. Then he shrugs. “Nearly a year ago. I don’t remember much. But it’s been a while.”  
  
Matsumoto nods, like he seems to process Sho’s words. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if that was so forward.”  
  
“It’s necessary,” Sho says, waving off the apology. “Nino said I should leave it to you because you’re a pro at this.”  
  
Matsumoto’s eyes widen, and Sho watches how the tip of his ears turn pink in embarrassment. “Not exactly a pro. Nino’s exaggerating.”  
  
“But you know what to do, yes? I did ask for your services in that regard.”  
  
“I know how to convince people, yes.” Matsumoto inches closer to him, eyes studying his face. “But I need to know if I’m overstepping boundaries, Sho-san. You’re still my client. I would never want to make you uncomfortable with my actions. That’s why I’m asking what you want me to do so I’d know if it’s all right with you.”  
  
“Then how about this?” Sho meets Matsumoto’s stare, taking it as practice. “Tell me what you’ve got in mind, then I’ll tell you if it’s a go or a no. Does that seem fair to you?”  
  
Matsumoto just nods, then Sho braces himself as the guy thinks, thumb stroking his bottom lip as he ponders on it.  
  
“Hugs?” Matsumoto asks suddenly.  
  
“Not in front of a lot of people and only when something made you really happy.”  
  
“Not much of a hugger either,” Matsumoto says. “Kissing?” Matsumoto’s voice drops as he asked that, making Sho’s stomach feel a little funny.  
  
“Depends,” Sho answers, willing his cheeks not to redden. “Depends on what kind and where.”  
  
Matsumoto’s smiling now, and it reminds Sho of Nino getting a real kick out of seeing him flustered. “I like the short ones. Short, repeated ones to be exact. On the cheek?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Hand?”  
  
“Reminds me of a Getsu-9 drama but okay.”  
  
Matsumoto looks at his mouth. “Lips?” he whispers, like they’d be overheard despite the other passengers chattering mindlessly around them.  
  
Sho won’t deny that Matsumoto is attractive, that he’s got a plush mouth that Sho wants to know the feel of had things been different between them. If only this was an ordinary arrangement with an escort.  
  
“No,” Sho says. “It’s like the hug, but I’d prefer for it not to be done.” He meets Matsumoto’s gaze evenly. “We’re not really together, Matsumoto-san. I know we have to be convincing, but I’d like to set a limit.”  
  
“Okay.” Matsumoto pulls back, maintaining the distance between them. “I thought you were going to call me Matsujun, though?”  
  
“We’re not in Hawaii yet,” Sho says, looking out the window.  
  
“No,” Matsumoto agrees beside him. “Not yet.”  
  
They spend the next few hours trying to come up with a decent story on how they got together. Sho offers his opinions here and there, based on what he’d think Aiba and Ohno would ask. There’s Haru-chan to consider, too, but she’s not like Aiba who’s blunt and asks the most embarrassing questions right off the bat.  
  
Nino’s warning lingers in the back of Sho’s mind, but he ignores it in favor of polishing their story. If Aiba asks that (a part of Sho prays he wouldn’t), Matsumoto can show how much of a pro he is. Sho plans to leave the embarrassing parts to him; Matsumoto’s face seems confident enough to handle all of it anyway.  
  
The following hours pass in silence. Matsumoto resumes reading his book while Sho flips through the movies he can watch, settling for a documentary about penguins instead.  
  
Thirty minutes into the thing, Sho realizes he underestimated the penguins. The narrator of the documentary details on how penguins migrate, then Sho remembers Happy Feet and the little ones there, and he can feel his eyes stinging.  
  
He tries to compose himself, not wanting to alert Matsumoto, but just when he fumbles for something to wipe his eyes with, he catches Matsumoto’s staring right at him.  
  
“Are you crying?” Matsumoto asks, his book set aside for the moment.  
  
Sho waves his hands. “I’m fine.”  
  
Matsumoto gives him a look, turns to what he’s watching to study it for a few moments, then faces Sho once more. “They migrate.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“They migrate and leave their babies behind,” Matsumoto says, looking like he’s fighting to hold back a teasing grin. “Babies in eggs, but babies regardless. They migrate, and that made you sad.”  
  
“It’s the delivery,” Sho insists, removing one earbud from his ear and handing it over. “You try listening to this guy deliver his lines, and it’s like he’s talking about permanent abandonment and stuff.” Sho looks away to wipe his eyes with his thumbs as discreetly as he can manage. “Stop laughing at me.”  
  
“I’m not laughing at you,” Matsumoto says. “I’m not!” he denies again when Sho swats at his arm.  
  
Matsumoto collects himself after a few moments, then he puts the earbud on and reaches out to thumb at the corner of Sho’s eye, wiping away a tear. He gets comfortable on his seat, watching the documentary without another word.  
  
“You’re watching the penguins,” Sho says in awe.  
  
“I’m watching the penguins that made you cry,” Matsumoto says, letting out a quiet chuckle.  
  
“Why? Are you even interested?”  
  
“I’m interested now because they made you cry.” Matsumoto gives him a tiny push, enough to make his body hit the backrest. “Now settle down and let me focus on the migration.”  
  
Migrating penguins take up an hour and a half of their time, and by the end of it, Sho’s already beginning to feel drowsy. He turns his head and is not surprised to find his companion asleep already; Matsumoto’s not the one with the desires to know more about penguin habits.  
  
Sho is surprised, however, when Matsumoto’s head lands unceremoniously on his shoulder, strands of his dyed hair covering his eyes. He looks less intimidating from this angle, his soft sighs and deep breaths making it too easy for Sho to imagine something else, another scenario in which he never hired Matsumoto’s services and this is really his partner who’s sleeping on his shoulder.  
  
Sho needs to draw from that imagination to make this two-week trip work in his favor.  
  
“The penguins thank you for your time,” Sho whispers with a smile, looking at Matsumoto’s long eyelashes for a moment.  
  
He settles back and lets his eyes slide shut, sleep claiming him almost immediately.  
  
\--  
  
Hawaii isn’t the Hawaii in postcards and advertisements that Sho remembers; it’s night by the time they arrived and he didn’t see the island surrounded by water, just city lights that seemed to float amidst the blanket of darkness.  
  
Matsumoto wordlessly offered his hand to Sho as the pilot announced that they were about to make their landing, something Sho was grateful for. It’s not much of a contact, but Sho thinks he’s more or less used to the feel of Matsumoto’s skin on his; his first instinct is to no longer shy away from the man’s touch.  
  
The airport is not as crowded as Sho expected it to be, making their checkout go smoothly and quickly. Ohno promised that he’d send someone to wait for them at the arrival area, so Sho keeps an eye out while Matsumoto fixes his personal belongings.  
  
“Sho-san,” Matsumoto says, and Sho turns. Matsumoto is already reaching out, his thick brows furrowed behind his sunglasses. Sho doesn’t see the point of wearing sunglasses when there’s no sun, but he keeps his mouth shut. “Your hat’s askew.”  
  
“Oh,” is all Sho says, standing awkwardly as the guy fixes it for him. Sho looks past Matsumoto’s broad shoulders, and he finally sees it.  
  
“Sho-chan!” comes a loud yell that almost startled Sho. He manages a wave in Aiba’s direction, enthusiastic enough to make Aiba wave back. Aiba’s wearing a cap, a shirt, and khaki pants, like he’s always ready to go to the beach. He’s vibrating with energy, nearly jumping at the sight of them.  
  
“Let me guess,” Matsumoto says, removing his sunglasses. “He’s not Ohno-san.”  
  
“No, he’s not.”  
  
Matsumoto turns, and Sho doesn’t miss the way Aiba’s eyes narrow. Then Aiba beams, just as Matsumoto nods in acknowledgement.  
  
“Fair warning,” Sho says as they walk to where Aiba is, still waving at them like they haven’t seen him, “Aiba-chan’s always in high spirits. He...might ask some questions.”  
  
“Ah,” Matsumoto says, smiling, “the first challenge, then.”  
  
They finally reach Aiba, and Aiba nearly topples Sho over by the force of his hug. Sho returns it, then Aiba holds him close to whisper in his ear, “Sho-chan, when Nino said you’ve got someone, he didn’t say you’ve _bagged_ someone!”  
  
Sho reddens at the statement, but he manages to say, “Don’t scare him off now,” before pushing Aiba back, to give himself room to breathe.  
  
“Aiba-chan,” he says as an introduction, “this is Matsumoto Jun. Matsujun, this is Aiba Masaki.”  
  
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Matsumoto says, accepting Aiba’s outstretched hand, his other hand reaching up to push his sunglasses above his head. His eyes widen when Aiba pulls him to a hug, and Sho just shrugs his shoulders while smiling.  
  
“Sho-chan’s boyfriend is automatically my friend,” Aiba declares, grinning wide. “Can I call you Matsujun?”  
  
“Of course,” Matsumoto says.  
  
“Car’s parked outside. Oh-chan designated me to be your driver till you get your car, so I’m going to take you to the hotel,” Aiba explains, leading them out.  
  
As Matsumoto loads their luggages in the compartment, Aiba throws an arm around Sho’s shoulders. “Sho-chan,” Aiba says, loud enough that even Matsumoto can surely hear it, “mind if we have your boyfriend sit in front? Got some things to ask, as always.”  
  
“You never change,” Sho says, shaking his head. He exchanges a look with Matsumoto, and at the man’s nod, Sho fakes a sigh. “Don’t tell him all the embarrassing stuff about me,” he says to Aiba jokingly.  
  
Aiba puts a hand over his heart. “I’d never dare.”  
  
The drive to the hotel is full of Aiba’s chatter, firing off the questions Sho has expected and has prepared for in the plane earlier.  
  
“How long have you guys been together?” is Aiba’s first question.  
  
Matsumoto smoothly answers it with what he and Sho rehearsed earlier. “Nearly a year. Ten months to be exact.”  
  
“Sho-chan, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve met him earlier in Tokyo and had a double date or something!”  
  
Sho shrugs. “I had a tough schedule, remember? Had to pull extra hours in order to file for a leave for Satoshi-kun’s wedding.”  
  
Aiba laughs. “Once we’re back in Tokyo, we’ll grab a bite or something. Shihori-chan would love that.”  
  
“Shihori-chan’s his girlfriend,” Sho explains to Matsumoto, who only gives Aiba a reassuring smile.  
  
“I’ll leave it to Sho-san; if there’s anyone who can make our schedules match, it’s him,” Matsumoto says with confidence, and Sho’s amazed at how believable it sounds.  
  
“I don’t doubt that,” Aiba says, exchanging one look with Sho in the rear view mirror. “Is that one of the things you like about him, Matsujun?” Aiba’s eyebrows wiggle.  
  
“Sometimes,” Matsumoto answers with a smile. “He has every minute planned, you see.”  
  
“That’s Sho-chan for you,” Aiba says, sounding proud. “And you, Sho-chan? What do you like about Matsujun here?”  
  
“He’s a hard worker like me,” Sho says with practiced ease, remembering Matsumoto’s earnest apologies when they couldn’t meet prior to their departure. He’s not exactly lying. “It’s easy to find a rhythm.”  
  
“Easy, huh?” And there it is, the Aiba Masaki smirk that reminds Sho of Nino’s too much. He’s definitely thinking of something lewd.  
  
Don’t ask it, Sho prays. Don’t ask that question next, not that one—  
  
“This one’s for Matsujun, then,” Aiba says, oblivious to Sho’s growing panic. Sho hears Matsumoto hum in question, and he wants to disappear right then and there. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten meaning it’s totally mind-blowing, how’s the sex life?”  
  
Sho chokes on nothing; he didn’t expect Aiba to be so blunt about it.  
  
If Matsumoto was shocked, he definitely didn’t show it. He still has that cool, collected expression on his face. “Huh,” Matsumoto says, tilting his head in thought. He sneaks a glance at Sho and Sho musters all the apology he can with one look.  
  
Maybe Sho should have really warned him about it.  
  
“Eight,” Matsumoto answers after his pause, one that’s not too long that it could’ve alerted Aiba that something was amiss. At least, that’s what Sho thinks, in that part of his brain that still had the ability to think.  
  
Eight. He’s still trying to process the number; it’s obviously a lie, but _that_ high? On the one hand, Sho’s still thrown out of the loop by Aiba’s question and Matsumoto’s quick answer to it, but on the other, there’s a part of him that wants to know what could make Matsumoto Jun give someone a perfect ten.  
  
He’s desperately trying to ignore that part.  
  
Aiba laughs in reply, his eyes crinkling at the sides when Sho meets his gaze at the mirror. “I know a good sex shop or two, even if we’re in Honolulu.”  
  
“No thanks,” Sho says quickly, his brain having recovered. “I’m not going to any sex shop with you.”  
  
After all, Sho still remembers the taste of a strawberry-flavored condom.  
  
100% latex, 0% strawberry. Not recommended.  
  
“That was a long time ago, Sho-chan,” Aiba says, because he knows what Sho’s thinking of. “But you know where to find me if you change your mind. You too, Matsujun.”  
  
“I’ll keep it in mind, Aiba-san,” Matsumoto says good-naturedly, inclining his head in thanks.  
  
Aiba whistles in glee, and when Sho catches Matsumoto’s eye, he tilts his head briefly in apology.  
  
This is going to be the longest two weeks of Sho’s life.


	2. Chapter 2

  
The first time Jun has heard of Sakurai Sho, it was during one of Nino’s birthday parties—held at Nino’s home—, when Nino was on the phone and half-drunk, giggling into a happy birthday phone call from someone he affectionately calls “Sho-yan”.  
  
It didn’t stick to mind. But when Nino called him up years later about a “friend in trouble; you owe me, Jun-kun, for that time you wrote on my wall because you were so drunk you reverted back to a toddler”, Jun had an inkling he had heard the name somewhere before.  
  
After a few complaints, some grumbling, and a lot of laughing on Nino’s part, Jun found himself agreeing to Nino’s odd proposal by the end of the call. He thought nothing on it; recommendations are a frequent occurrence in his line of work.  
  
It was just another job in his life as an escort.  
  
Sakurai Sho is not the typical rich client, however.  
  
Jun is used to people with money. They flaunt what they’ve got, and since they’re the ones hiring someone’s services, they think they’ve completely bought that person. Jun allows that illusion to last as long as they don’t force him to do something that wasn’t discussed beforehand. It’s not up to him to modify the mindset of people regarding his job.  
  
But Sakurai—Sho-san, as Jun refers to him now, he doesn’t have that air about him. There’s this nagging feeling at the back of Jun’s mind that Sho might be a son of a rich business conglomerate and was born in wealth, but he can’t confirm it because he can’t see it in Sho.  
  
Jun doesn’t know what to make of his present employer at the moment. He’s met Sho’s friends, including the soon-to-be-wedded Ohno-san—a short man with half-lidded eyes but also with a big smile when he saw Sho—and what Jun sees are people who are definitely Nino’s friends. He has drank enough beers and brandy with Nino to be able to tell what kind of people made up Nino’s clique, despite Nino being a famous person.  
  
What Jun wants to find out is how Aiba-san and Ohno-san fit into Sakurai Sho’s circle of friends. Sho seems to get along well with them, if the introductions Sho made were anything to go by.  
  
Jun definitely didn’t miss the way Ohno’s expression lit up at the sight of him, and how the man smiled at Aiba’s interjection that he’s Sho’s boyfriend.  
  
“I’m glad Sho-kun thought of bringing you along,” Ohno says as they shake hands. “I was wondering if Haru-chan and I made the right decision of reserving a king-sized bed for Sho-kun, but with you here…”  
  
Ohno trails off then smiles meaningfully at him.  
  
Beside Jun, Sho doesn’t quite manage to keep it together.  
  
Jun makes up for Sho’s slip by returning Ohno’s smile. “Thank you for looking out for us.” He punctuates that with a playful wink, something Ohno laughs at.  
  
Ohno hands him the keycard to their room, directing his smile towards Sho. “I like him, Sho-kun. He seems to know exactly how to deal with you.”  
  
“With me?” Sho repeats, sounding offended. “Where’s Haru-chan so I can say the same thing?”  
  
“Trying on her dress with her bridesmaids,” Ohno says, shrugging. “She’ll be back late, so I guess you guys can just see her tomorrow? You had a long flight, anyway.”  
  
“Are you dismissing us?” Sho asks, while Jun exchanges a parting nod with Ohno and makes his way to the elevators.  
  
He spends a couple of seconds alone while Sho appears to be horrified by something Ohno said. Jun can’t hear it; he’s too far and there are American women chatting to his left, also waiting for the lifts.  
  
When the elevator arrives, Jun calls for his boyfriend slash present client and beckons him over.  
  
He doesn’t miss Ohno’s teasing smile and Sho’s blush as Sho hurries over.  
  
“I can’t go inside the room without you,” Jun says, just to see how red can Sho’s cheeks turn out to be.  
  
“You have the keycard, don’t you?” Sho says, but now the tips of his ears are reddening too, and it’s an adorable look on him.  
  
“Yes, but there’s only one keycard.” Jun traps it between his fingers. “I suppose Ohno-san doesn’t want us to separate in any way.”  
  
Sho sighs and rests his back against the nearest corner. “I’m sorry for Aiba-chan’s question earlier.”  
  
Jun blinks in mock innocence. “Which one?”  
  
Sho’s face goes blank and Jun laughs.  
  
“I had a feeling he’d ask that,” Jun admits, watching the view outside as the elevator takes them up. “Why are you apologizing?”  
  
“Aiba-chan asks that just to see me flustered,” Sho explains. “It makes him happy when I choke on my own spit, apparently.”  
  
“Well, I can’t deny him his fun,” Jun says, turning his head once they reach their floor. “After you. It’s 703.”  
  
Sho steps out without another word. Their trek to their room is short, and after Jun swipes the keycard, he and Sho enter the room in silence.  
  
Jun inserts the keycard into the slot to turn on all the lights, and it’s then that Sho faces him.  
  
Usually, when Jun reaches this point, it’d only take five minutes for clothes to come flying in all directions. That’s not an exaggeration; the people who can book Jun for such things are the ridiculously rich, and most were ridiculously impatient as well.  
  
Not that it’s been a regular occurrence; it’s been a year and a half since a client booked Jun for sex. His other appointments merely wanted his company, and as it was in Nino’s case, his face.  
  
“Matsumoto-san,” Sho begins, not quite looking at him.  
  
Huh, Jun thinks, eyes narrowing. So he’s back to Matsumoto-san since it’s just the two of them. Somehow, he’s not surprised.  
  
“I didn’t actually think we’d get this far,” Sho tells him, and this time, Jun frowns. “I mean, with the arrangement. I thought we’d get busted the moment I saw Aiba-chan. No offense.”  
  
Is Sho trying to tell him that his performance wasn’t up to par? Jun would prefer it if he’d be direct about it. “Are you giving me critique, Sho-san?”  
  
It’s Sho’s turn to be confused. “What? No! It’s not on you. Nino did tell me you’d know what to do, and you really did know what to do. I meant me. I’ve never done this before, and now we’re here, we actually made it this far, and there’s only one bed—”  
  
Ah. So that’s what makes Sho so fidgety.  
  
“Sho-san, if you don’t want to share the bed, just say the word. You’re still my client, and your comfort is my top priority here. There’s a couch if you want me to sleep there instead.”  
  
Sho gives him an incredulous look. “I was going to offer the bed to you,” he says like he can’t figure out why Jun thought otherwise. In Jun’s defense, he’s only known Sakurai Sho for twelve hours and counting. “I can sleep on the couch. I…”  
  
Jun waits, but Sho doesn’t continue his statement.  
  
“Yes?” Jun prods, knowing there has to be a reason why the sleeping arrangement is a big deal for Sho. Surely Sho must have had the idea that if they made it this far, there would only be one bed? Aiba-san did ask the sex question.  
  
“I snore,” Sho admits, looking sheepish. “And it’s not the kind you can tune out, I’ve been told.”  
  
Jun didn’t expect that. He stares at Sho, looks at his embarrassed, almost anguished face for a while, and can’t help his laugh.  
  
“I have just the thing,” Jun says. He always brings it in case his ears pop whenever he boards a plane. “I have ear plugs. Surely those will do the trick?”  
  
Sho blinks, considers. “I don’t know. I don’t actually hear myself when I snore.”  
  
“Of course not,” Jun says, walking past him to see the rest of the room. The couch is situated a few feet away from the bed, and to Jun, if Sho really snores as loudly as he claims, that distance isn’t enough to tune it out.  
  
If he’s going to endure Sakurai Sho’s snores for a couple of weeks, he’ll suffer through it on a proper bed. He won’t settle for anything less.  
  
But as a form of respect to his client, Jun faces Sho and inclines his head, gesturing to the bed.  
  
“Left side or right?”  
  
\--  
  
After settling down (Sho picks right, so Jun stays on the left side of the bed, close to the couch) and unloading some of their stuff—Jun sets his sleeping mask, phone charger, and case for his contacts and glasses on the nightstand on his side—Sho presents an itinerary to him, typed out neatly in the Notes of his phone.  
  
“The bachelor party is at the end of the week,” Sho explains. Jun skims over the details, amused at the idea of Sho typing out the date, time, and location of said event. He’d make a fantastic planner or a tour guide with his strict schedule adherence. “And the wedding is on the week after. Satoshi-kun says we have to help out on some of the preparations, but he didn’t specify what. He also said we have to practice for a surprise number. I have no idea what he meant by that.”  
  
“We’re dancing?” Jun clarifies.  
  
Sho nods. “Do you charge extra for that?”  
  
Jun waves his hand, chuckling. “No. I’m just asking because I never took you for a dancer.”  
  
Sho’s nose scrunches. “I don’t dance, not really. Unless I’m really, really drunk or a friend asked it of me.”  
  
Jun has a feeling he’d see both sides of Sho’s dancing before this arrangement ends, but he doesn’t say it. Instead he scrolls through the rest of Sho’s itinerary, half-listening to the man explaining.  
  
It amazes him that Sho managed to squeeze in his sight-seeing plans. There are empty days in which Jun assumes that Sho has reserved for whatever his friends would ask him to do, but overall, it’s an informative note for someone like Jun, who often travels without plans.  
  
Well, he’s here for work, but it’s not every day he has to work in Hawaii, so he somehow treats it like a vacation.  
  
“I’m not going to ask you to accompany me all the time,” Sho says by the time Jun hands the phone back. “If you want to go shopping or kayak-ing, go ahead.”  
  
Jun frowns. He’s not used to that much freedom whenever he’s with a client. He’s had clients who leave it all to him—date ideas, what movies they should watch, where could they go if they opt for a drive around the city. But still, he’s had rules to stick with.  
  
Jun reminds himself that Sakurai Sho is someone who hasn’t hired an escort before. “You’re paying for all the hours I’d spend in your company, Sho-san. If you give me free time, what happens to the money we’ve agreed on for all those hours? My price was calculated to the total number of hours we’d be in Hawaii. That’s 336 hours, in case you’re wondering. And you already paid for half of it.”  
  
“I guess that leaves…” Sho trails off, looking to his right and blinking repeatedly. “A hundred and sixty-eight hours?” He gives Jun this boyish grin, half-embarrassed and half-amused. It makes him look younger than his actual age.  
  
“I can’t make edits to the billing statement,” Jun explains. “Not when it’s been sent to your email and you already paid for half of it. But I won’t charge you for the hours I’m going to spend alone. That would be unfair. Since you’re giving me time to myself, I’d deduct those from what I originally charged you and refund them.”  
  
Sho seems surprised. “That’s very considerate of you.”  
  
“I think you’re just used to Nino,” Jun jokes. “Lucky for you he’s not the one in this job.”  
  
There’s a pause, and Jun barely hears the quiet “Lucky indeed” that spills out of Sho’s mouth.  
  
He chooses not to comment on it.  
  
\--  
  
The next morning, Jun wakes up to the curtains opened, Hawaiian sun shining right on his face.  
  
“Good morning,” someone says cheerfully—Sho, when Jun’s mind has began waking itself up. “Satoshi-kun was kind enough to send us breakfast. But he says this is the last time. We’d have to eat outside for the rest of the days or order room service for ourselves.”  
  
Jun sits up groggily, rubbing at his eyes. He reaches for his glasses, and when he puts them on, he catches Sho hurriedly looking away.  
  
“Sho-san, I only got half of what you said,” Jun admits, hating how scratchy his voice is. This is one of the reasons why he raised his fee regarding sleeping with a client. He dislikes how out-of-sorts he appears in the mornings after.  
  
Granted, he hasn’t slept with Sho in _that_ way, but still. He must look so disheveled, hair in all directions.  
  
“The bathroom’s all yours,” Sho says instead, and Jun thinks he saw a smile before Sho moves to grab their breakfast trolley. Not a tray, but a trolley. Jun stares at it, imagines Ohno-san ordering it for them. “Or would you like to have breakfast first?”  
  
“I’ll be honest, Sho-san,” Jun says, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. “I’m not very good with mornings.”  
  
“Oh,” Sho says. “There’s coffee included in the trolley.”  
  
Jun wants to sigh but he doesn’t have the mental faculties to do so yet. Nothing deters Sakurai Sho-the-morning-person, does it?  
  
“I’ll have it black,” Jun relents, and he yawns through the rest of their breakfast.  
  
Sho doesn’t try to engage him in conversation, but slowly, Jun’s waking up, and he’s discovering that his client is a big eater. Jun tries to keep up, not remembering what’s supposed to happen today despite seeing Sho’s itinerary the night before.  
  
When they’re finished with breakfast, Jun opts for a shower. He spends a long time tweaking his hair, and when he’s done, he puts on his contacts.  
  
Jun looks at the mirror and sees himself—the escort. With this look comes the confidence, and he’s starting to get back to his element. He heads out and finds Sho on the couch, bent over a newspaper. He’s obviously struggling to read it, mouthing the english words and squinting at some, but he looks up when Jun crosses the threshold.  
  
“Aiba-chan wants us to help him with the bachelor party preparations,” Sho says. “He’s waiting at the lobby, and he says he’s going to take us to the bar to check out whatever he has in mind so far.”  
  
Jun just nods, putting on a leather jacket, letting Sho lead the way. Sho clutches at the keycard tightly, and when they reach the elevator, he seems to hesitate.  
  
Jun grants him the easy way out. “Keep it. We could take turns holding on to it.”  
  
Sho only gives an acknowledging nod, nothing more. It’s evident that he’s still not accustomed to having Jun around, so Jun hopes Aiba-san wouldn’t be that perceptive. Between Aiba and Ohno, Jun is more worried about Aiba. Aiba gives him the Nino vibes, the same sharp intuition over things.  
  
As soon as they reach the lobby, Aiba waves them over. There’s a pretty girl with him, and Jun thinks she might be Aiba’s girlfriend. She’s of the average height, her cheekbones prominent when she smiles, and her eyes bright.  
  
Jun returns her smile, waits for Sho to do the introductions before he offers her his hand. “A pleasure, Shihori-san.”  
  
Her laugh is as infectious as Aiba’s. She waves off the formality. “I’m not accompanying you to the bar. He’s just going to drop me off to the rink where I’m meeting Haru-chan and the others.”  
  
“And you’re probably running late so shall we go?” Aiba says, leading them all out. The same car is waiting for them, and once settled inside, Jun listens to Aiba’s friendly chatter and Shihori’s teasing remarks. Jun doesn’t get to hang out with other couples often; he’s usually accompanying singles in one-time events.  
  
They drop off Shihori, but Jun doesn’t miss that she pinches Aiba’s cheek before she gets off the car. Jun’s keeping an eye out for all kinds of PDA around him; he doesn’t want to overdo the acting and give them away. He needs for it to be just right—nothing more, nothing less.  
  
Thirty minutes later, they’re tasting the liquor stocks of the bar while Aiba makes notes on his phone. It’s Aiba who volunteers Sho to be the taste tester, claiming Sho’s got a high tolerance for alcohol, but Jun’s perceptive enough to notice the look of distress Sho shot his way, so he partakes too.  
  
“Will we order cocktails?” Sho asks, wincing at the burn of the vodka he just sampled. “This one’s stronger than the one I had before it.”  
  
Aiba’s looking thoughtful, eyes serious. “Oh-chan loves cocktails. What do you think, Matsujun?”  
  
“If you’re bringing out cocktails, better bring them out first. Then serve the hard liquor later, when people are tipsy. Or the other way around to allow everyone to cool down,” Jun says, picking up the shot glass Sho just used. He sees no point in drinking from another glass; they’re supposed to be a couple.  
  
He makes sure he drinks at the spot touched by Sho’s lips earlier, and neither Sho nor Aiba missed what he did.  
  
“This one,” he says, pertaining to the one he just had, “definitely falls under the hard liquor.”  
  
“Something to give Oh-chan when he’s all red and just laughing at everything, then,” Aiba decides, smiling to himself as he types away on his phone.  
  
Jun takes the liberty of pouring the next bottle, but he hands the glass to Sho when he’s done.  
  
Sho attempts to take it, but Jun shakes his head once, tilting his chin.  
  
There’s a terse moment of Sho hesitating, but Jun catches him sneaking a glance at Aiba before he lets his lips touch the edge of the glass, allowing Jun to tip the liquid into his mouth.  
  
Another wince, and this time Jun snorts at Sho’s anguished face, at how he didn’t drink almost three-fourths of what Jun poured out for him  
  
“Did you ask for all the hard stuff, Aiba-chan?” Sho asks, patting his own cheeks. “That one was really strong, I felt it rush to my head.”  
  
Jun puts the glass under his nose, sniffing it. Whatever Aiba Masaki picked, he’s either gunning for a complete hangover on the following day or he just doesn’t want a sober guest.  
  
He samples the drink and manages to finish all of it without wincing.  
  
When he opens his eyes, Sho and Aiba are staring right at him.  
  
“What you drank just now,” Aiba says, smirking, “was all of what Sho-chan just spat out.”  
  
Sho has a glass of water against his lips now, his hand covering half of his face.  
  
“That’s why it was so mild,” Jun says, quirking an eyebrow when Sho splutters and chokes on his water.  
  
Aiba is laughing, reaching out to pat Sho on the back. “Because Sho-chan warmed it up for you?” Aiba wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
Jun nods, not looking away from Sho’s face. “Yeah.”  
  
Sho’s coughing now, teary-eyed. “Water shot up my nose,” he says, while Aiba just gives him a rather hard slap on the back, laughing all the while.  
  
They sample the rest of what Aiba had in mind, offering suggestions on what should stay in the menu and what shouldn’t. Aiba diligently takes notes, or at least appears to, while Jun gives Sho one drink after another, not letting Sho hold the shot glass on his own.  
  
Eventually Sho has to excuse himself to take a piss, leaving Jun with Aiba.  
  
“Sho-chan can really hold his alcohol,” Aiba says, fingers still tapping on his phone. “It’s why I asked him to sample all of these. I’m really hoping he gets super drunk in the party; he becomes more entertaining and daring.”  
  
“I’m sure he does,” Jun says.  
  
“But hey, you’ll be there to keep Sho-chan in line in case he thinks of doing something really embarrassing.”  
  
“Depends on how embarrassing it is.”  
  
Aiba laughs, clapping his back. “I like you, Matsujun. You seem like a great sport. I wish Nino’s here as well. We could’ve had a good time laughing at poor Sho-chan.”  
  
Jun smiles as a reply, pouring the next drink for himself. There’s still five more to go in Aiba’s list, and Jun wants them to wrap up early so he can see a Hawaiian sunset. “To Ohno-san and Haru-san,” he says, raising his glass in a toast before finishing the shot in one gulp.  
  
“And may they be happy for the rest of their lives,” Aiba says, grinning wide when Jun gives him a thumbs up.  
  
\--  
  
They thankfully don’t get inebriated in the middle of the afternoon, but Jun drinks a lot of water just in case. On the way back, Aiba gives them a quick overview of the plan, that Ohno will be taken to the bar blindfolded since it’s a surprise.  
  
Aiba drops them off at the hotel before driving away, claiming Shihori would get angry at him if he’s late in picking her up. Jun’s considering to avail room service for dinner, especially after all the drinks they had. He wants to lie down for a bit.  
  
To his surprise, Sho tugs him by the sleeve of his jacket. “I looked up the restaurant in this hotel, and they’ve got really good reviews.”  
  
Jun looks around, finds that no one is paying attention to them. “Your friends aren’t around, Sho-san. No need for us to pretend when no one will see.”  
  
“It’s a thank you dinner, Matsumoto-san,” Sho says, not quite meeting his eyes. “I know I’m not a good actor like Nino, but the reason we’re not discovered yet is that you got us through this afternoon.”  
  
“It was just a bunch of drinks,” Jun insists. “No need to thank me for that.”  
  
“But I want to. Aiba-chan may have asked really embarrassing questions, but I don’t think he’s suspecting yet. He’s focusing solely on Satoshi-kun, and that was my intention when I hired you. I need to thank you for that.”  
  
Jun gives Sho one look, gauging his sincerity. “Really good reviews, you said.”  
  
“Four and a half stars out of five, in fact.”  
  
“You’re paying.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Then lead the way,” Jun says, relenting. It’s a little difficult to refuse Sho when he has such a hopeful look on his face.  
  
Sho does, and Jun is taken to a restaurant that serves Italian cuisine. Once seated with the menu covering half of their faces, Sho speaks up.  
  
“Your profile says you cook.”  
  
That piques Jun’s interest. Usually, his clients don’t bother to learn anything about him, asking him for details and not caring if they’re true or not. With each appointment, it’s as if Jun has the freedom to create a new character for himself.  
  
Sho seems to want to know the real him and not the paid escort. It disorients Jun for a brief moment, but he recovers.  
  
“Is that why you brought me here?” he asks, keeping his tone teasing and light.  
  
“Nino said you made pasta for him once or twice.”  
  
Jun’s eyebrow quirks. “You asked Nino?”  
  
“I’m trying to thank you, Matsumoto-san,” Sho says, meeting his eyes across the table. “I wouldn’t want to give you a dinner you’d rather forget.”  
  
To anyone else, it would appear that they’re on a date and are teasing each other back. None would be the wiser.  
  
Jun decides to play along. “I did cook for him.”  
  
“So you’re familiar with the stuff in the menu?” Sho asks, sounding hopeful.  
  
“With some of them, yes,” Jun says, wondering what Sho’s getting at.  
  
Sho closes his menu and gives him a serious look. “Order for me, then.”  
  
“I’ve only known you for two days, Sho-san.”  
  
“Two days gives you a lot already, Matsumoto-san, considering your job.” Sho gestures to the menu in Jun’s hands. “Order for me according to what you think I might like.”  
  
Jun only has the breakfast from earlier to base his decision on. But he does have Nino’s answers that give him an idea or two. He has an inkling that whatever he picks will be suited to Sho’s palate.  
  
“For a thank you dinner, you’re leaving too many things to me,” Jun says, but he calls the waiter over. He gives their order and asks for two glasses of wine. “I’m starting to think there’s something you want to know.”  
  
“I do want to get to know you better, Matsumoto-san,” Sho says.  
  
Jun studies Sho’s face. “What’s there to tell? I’ve given you a quick overview back in the plane. You know my parents’ names, my sister’s. Where they live, where I went to school. I gave you all the basics for this setup to work and you’ve given me the same. What else do you want to know?”  
  
“Why are you in this job?” Sho asks, then he bites his bottom lip before shaking his head. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”  
  
Jun’s not bothered by the question. He often gets that one. He has a dozen colorful answers depending on the client, but somehow, he wants to be truthful to Sho.  
  
“Aside from the fact that it pays well, I actually like what I do.” Their wine arrives, and Jun inclines his head in thanks before continuing. “It gives me an excuse to see places I wouldn’t normally have the chance to visit had I picked a desk job.”  
  
“People come to you for company,” Sho says, looking thoughtful. If he’s offended by Jun’s remark about salarymen, he doesn’t show it. “And you like it, you said.”  
  
“I get lonely easily,” Jun admits. “It’s something Nino likes having a laugh over. But thanks to my job, I’ve got company. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks.” He gives a nod in Sho’s direction. “It’s just like any other job, Sho-san. I guess I’m just lucky that I really like it.”  
  
“Do you enjoy the company?”  
  
Jun smiles. “For confidentiality purposes, I won’t be answering that.”  
  
He expects Sho to apologize, but Sho returns his smile. “You’re a pro, all right.”  
  
Jun raises his wine glass in Sho’s direction before taking a sip.  
  
“Do you think the other guests might be present?” Jun asks after letting a few seconds of silence linger. They’ve been speaking in hushed tones, and Jun can’t think of any possible explanation for it.  
  
“I don’t know them all, so I wouldn’t be too sure,” Sho answers. “There might be some of them here, who knows?”  
  
“If that’s the case, then didn’t we have a dangerous conversation just now?” Jun sighs, then he reaches across the table to grasp Sho’s wrist, thumb stroking the bones there.  
  
“In case anyone’s watching,” Jun explains as Sho’s cheeks color a bit. He withdraws.  
  
There’s a soft kick delivered to his foot from under the table, and Sho’s shaking his head at him.  
  
“Don’t surprise me like that,” Sho says from the corner of his mouth, sounding almost admonishing.  
  
“Your face makes it worth it every time,” Jun reasons, hiding his smirk behind his wine glass.  
  
Jun keeps up with the subtle flirting even after their food arrives, feeling a thrill hum inside him each time Sho blushes and teases back.  
  
If there’s anyone watching, Jun believes he has given them a convincing show.  
  
\--  
  
Wednesday of that week passes by with Jun getting free time to himself. He shops for souvenirs, using a rented car to take him wherever he wishes. Sho does the same, shopping for friends and visiting tourist spots. He shares his photos and videos with Jun that night, when they’re back in the hotel after a long day of seeing Hawaii separately.  
  
By Thursday, they seem to have adapted to a routine. Sho is a morning person, and by the time Jun’s up, Sho has already finished showering and reading at least half of the first page of the Hawaiian newspaper. They eat their meals together in case anyone they know might see them, keep up with the pretense while being mindful of Sho’s limitations.  
  
That night, when Sho chose to be unhealthful and picked a cheeseburger for his dinner, Jun thinks it’s time to ask for his feedback.  
  
“Be honest,” he says, eyes gravitating to Sho’s glistening lips thanks to the juice from the burger patty. “Do you think I’m convincing, acting as your boyfriend?”  
  
Sho has to swallow before he can reply, but he has this little frown when he does. “Why wouldn’t you be?”  
  
“I value feedback, Sho-san,” Jun tells him. “So far, you haven’t given me anything, even if we’ve been together for four days now. I asked for your expectations and your limitations. You’ve named them so I adhere to them. But are you satisfied with my services? Because I’d rather hear it from you than receive a typewritten version of it that went through our website.”  
  
“As long as we’re not found out, I think you’re doing your job well enough, Matsumoto-san,” Sho says, playing with a piece of napkin in his hands. “What exactly do you want to hear?”  
  
“Give me a score,” Jun says, voice firm. “Or anything, really. If I didn’t ask tonight, you never would have bothered. I’m an escort, Sho-san. I perform according to standards. But if I don’t know yours, how can I know what to do? You’re totally leaving everything to me.”  
  
“As I should,” Sho says. “You’re the professional here.”  
  
“But I’m not the only one pretending, am I?” Jun points out. He sighs. “Give me something. Anything. Feedback, no matter how harsh, is still feedback. I value your input. If you need me to tone down something or to up the flirting or to be more affectionate, say it.”  
  
This is one of the frustrations of Jun’s job. He’s providing a service, but as long as it’s an ongoing service, he prefers for the feedback to be also ongoing. He wants to do his best for his clients regardless of who they are, for them to get their money’s worth. People come to escort service agencies for a reason. Whatever that reason is, Jun wants them to get what they’re looking for through him.  
  
But he can’t provide it if they don’t know what they’re looking for.  
  
“You shy away when I touch you,” Jun says, making his way to the window and looking out towards the street. “We’re supposed to pretend to be a couple, and yet, whenever I initiate contact, you’d freeze as if it’s your default reaction, then you’d play along half a second later. It’s probably nothing, but if your friends are as sharp as I believe they are, they’d notice something is amiss.”  
  
“Do you think they’re suspecting?” Sho asks, and Jun can’t really decipher his tone.  
  
Jun shrugs. “They’re your friends, Sho-san. If there’s anyone who should have an idea or two regarding their suspicions, it’s you. But that’s not what I’m getting at here.”  
  
“I’m trying, you know,” Sho says. “I really am. But I’m not used to having anyone with me. It’s been a while, I’ve told you that. I’m sorry if I can’t really follow your lead. I’m not exactly very experienced in the dating department.”  
  
“And I am?” Jun faces him, crosses the distance between them to stand right in front of Sho. “What do you think escorts do, Sho-san? Do you think we go out and date our clients every time we get a request?”  
  
“That’s not what I said,” Sho says defensively, shaking his head.  
  
“That’s what I’m hearing, so enlighten me.”  
  
“Nino said you were good at your job,” Sho starts, avoiding his gaze. “I only know what your website told me, Matsumoto-san. That you’re good company. Paid company, but good nevertheless. And you are. I have nothing to say about your performance because there’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve got nothing to complain about. I’ll say something when I have a problem with it, you see. ”  
  
“Then let’s deal with that right here.” Jun reaches for one of Sho’s hands, holding it in his own. “If I do this, see, you’re tense already. You’re not supposed to do that.”  
  
Sho lets out a breath, one that’s more of a suffering exhale. “What am I supposed to do? I’m trying, I said I’m trying.”  
  
“Not hard enough,” Jun tells him. He knows he might be pushing it, but Sho looks like the guy who can use a lot of pushes. “I’m not the only one acting here. When I do something, you go with the flow, but you’re also welcome to be spontaneous. We’re not operating under a script. If you want to initiate, you can. And I’d follow.”  
  
Sho entwines their fingers, looking up at him. “Spontaneous like this?”  
  
“Could use more work,” Jun says honestly, but he gives Sho’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll do. For tonight. For tomorrow night, I doubt it.”  
  
Tomorrow night is the bachelor party. While there might be other couples out there, Sho’s the only one who’s close friends with both the groom and his bestman. There’d be eyes on them, and Jun wants to perform to the best of his ability.  
  
But he needs Sho’s cooperation for that to work.  
  
“I don’t know what I’ll do tomorrow, but I’m intending to go beyond the usual,” Jun says, deciding to declare it outright. “I’m telling you so you won’t be surprised. There’ll be a lot of drinks there, and we need to blend in. Do I have your word that whatever I’ll do, you’ll try your best to keep up with me?”  
  
Sho looks like a kid who’s being scolded, not quite looking at Jun while worrying his bottom lip. Jun doesn’t let it distract him. “On the top of your head, what are you planning to do?”  
  
“When I’m drunk enough? Probably a kiss or two,” Jun says with a shrug. “I don’t plan for these things. I go with the mood.”  
  
“And if the mood calls for something more?” Sho asks, this time meeting his eyes.  
  
Jun levels Sho’s stare with one of his own. “Then I’ll do more.”  
  
Sho lets out a snort, something close to a laugh. “I need to be more drunk, then.”  
  
“Well, Aiba-san’s drinks can handle that part.” Jun finally lets go of Sho’s hand, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m really doing well for you? So far?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho says. “So far.”  
  
“Worth your money?”  
  
Sho nods.  
  
That’s good enough, Jun decides. “Then keep me in your favor tomorrow night.”  
  
\--  
  
The bar is a fifteen-minute drive from their hotel, and Aiba made a reservation for the entire place instead of just a private room. All of Ohno’s male guests were invited and privy to the surprise, but Jun and Sho got roped into helping to bring Ohno to the place.  
  
It’s Sho who lures Ohno out, saying he needs help with choosing his tie because he doesn’t know what the motif is. Aiba is the one who successfully blindfolds Ohno, and Jun gets to drive them there.  
  
“Seriously, you guys,” Ohno says, but he sounds happy. Had Jun been in his position, he’d be annoyed and rip the blindfold off. He hates surprises. “Where are we going? I thought Sho-kun just needs help with his tie.”  
  
“Can’t believe you bought that one, Oh-chan,” Aiba says with a laugh. “That’s a pathetic lie.”  
  
“Did the trick though, didn’t it?” Sho says. He’s in the passenger seat, while Aiba and Ohno are at the back. Ohno doesn’t touch his blindfold, but he does turn his head to the direction of sounds.  
  
“Who’s driving?” Ohno asks. “Sho-kun?”  
  
“I am,” Jun answers. “Sorry to take part in your abduction, Ohno-san.”  
  
“Ah, I was wondering where you were,” Ohno says, chuckling. “I knew Sho-kun wouldn’t go anywhere without you.”  
  
They reach the bar in less than fifteen minutes since there isn’t much traffic, and Jun keeps the door open while Aiba and Sho hold both of Ohno’s hands and guide him along.  
  
It’s Aiba who removes the blindfold, shouting, “Congratulations on your marriage!” as soon as Ohno blinks at his surroundings.  
  
The cheers follow, and the party begins.  
  
Jun gets dragged by Aiba to a booth despite his insistence that he can help with the drinks.  
  
“I did bartend once, you know,” he tells Aiba.  
  
“Not tonight,” Aiba says, giving him a strong push. “Tonight you’re sitting with Sho-chan, me, and Oh-chan in that booth. We’re going to have fun tonight, celebrate Oh-chan’s wedding.”  
  
“It’s not his wedding yet,” Sho says, because naturally, Aiba’s dragging him too. But he does sit beside Jun, closer than usual because Aiba props Ohno beside Sho, before taking the seat to Ohno’s left.  
  
“Keep the drinks coming!” Aiba orders to the staff, who scurries away to deliver more.  
  
“I’ll introduce you guys to some of my guests,” Ohno says with a big smile. He then points to the rest of the men there, giving names that Jun can’t really recall no matter how hard he tries. He pays attention to their faces instead, committing them to memory.  
  
Ohno introduces Sho as one of his trusted friends, and Jun gets introduced as Sho’s boyfriend. That earns the second toast, the first one being to Ohno’s upcoming wedding.  
  
“Sho-chan never brings anyone,” one of Ohno’s guests says, a man who looks a little older than the four of them.  
  
“That’s Taichi-kun,” Sho whispers to his ear, “one of our senpais in high school.”  
  
“Probably because they’re not as good-looking as me, Taichi-san,” Jun teases, and it earns a laugh from the people around them as well as a few toasts.  
  
Aiba is the one passing the drinks around, shot glass after shot glass, and while Jun wants to keep his alcohol intake in check, he also needs to keep up.  
  
Sho beside him tips one glass after another into his mouth, and Jun tries to match his pace. Around them, there are cheers and jokes, Ohno’s laughter echoing above all the chatter and loud booming of music.  
  
“Dance for us, Satoshi!” one of the guests yells, and Ohno is quick to oblige, elbowing Aiba aside to start the dancing.  
  
“Yeah, he’s definitely tipsy,” Sho says, laughing loudly as Ohno engages in one dance off followed by another. “Later, he’s going to try to hug everyone.”  
  
“Is that so?” Jun asks.  
  
Before Sho can reply, however, one of the guests points to them. “Sakurai-kun, are you guys really together?”  
  
Sho bristles at that, but Jun hopes it’s not that noticeable because of the laser lights. “What is this now, Ariyoshi-san?” To Jun, Sho says on the corner of his mouth, “Satoshi-kun’s senpai at work.”  
  
“And he knows you because?” Jun whispers, but he gives Ariyoshi one of his most charming smiles.  
  
“Because one time, he got so drunk that Satoshi-kun asked for help to bring him home. He was ashamed about the incident and decided to meet me so he could thank me,” Sho explains hastily.  
  
“You guys just look like you don’t get along,” Ariyoshi tells them, seemingly oblivious to their quick discussion. He points to Sho. “With Aiba-kun and the others, you seem to get along well, but is he really your boyfriend?”  
  
Jun sneaks a hand on Sho’s thigh, squeezing. “Conversely, can I ask what gave you that impression?”  
  
“You just don’t give me the couple vibes,” Ariyoshi says, gesturing vaguely.  
  
“Well, you can say that if you’re just looking at us,” Sho says, but he places a hand on top of Jun’s.  
  
“Not the flirting type, Sakurai-kun?” Ariyoshi asks with a grin.  
  
“Who do you think did all the chasing here, Ariyoshi-san?” Jun asks, and that seems to satisfy Ariyoshi, who breaks into laughter.  
  
They are saved from Ariyoshi’s incessant prodding when Aiba links his arm with Ariyoshi’s, telling him to dance with Ohno since he’s Ohno’s senpai. That leaves the two of them alone in the booth, surrounded by people laughing and cheering as Ohno’s dance moves get racier and more daring.  
  
But Jun knows they’re being more obvious, and Ariyoshi’s observations earlier weren’t said quietly. People around them heard it, and some of them would pay attention to them now.  
  
Jun doesn’t exactly need to find courage in order to spice things up, but Sho does. So Jun watches him finish one drink only to get another, but he keeps his hand on Sho’s thigh as a reminder.  
  
He squeezes to get Sho’s attention, and he ignores the twitch Sho made as a reaction. He leans closer, mouth resting right against Sho’s ear. “You’re drinking too fast.”  
  
Sho laughs, and it’s boisterous, like he’s so obnoxiously pleased for no reason at all. “Your lips tickle.”  
  
That’s it, Sho’s drunk. Jun takes a proper look at him, at his flushed cheeks and giddy smiles.  
  
To test his theory, Jun moves his hand inward, clutching at the inside of Sho’s thigh, and Sho _gasps_. His mouth parts, eyelids fluttering shut for a brief moment, then he looks at Jun.  
  
Jun waits. If anyone’s looking at them, they’re going to get what they want to see.  
  
“You’re—” Sho says, then he shakes his head, laughing a bit. “You’re too pretty.”  
  
Jun blinks. He wasn’t expecting that. “What?” He may have misheard; the music is loud and whatever American pop song this is, it’s driving the crowd around them wild.  
  
“Pretty,” Sho repeats. All right, Jun didn’t imagine it. “Really pretty. It’s...it’s hard for me, you know?”  
  
Jun faces Sho and leans closer, his chest touching Sho’s arm. Sho licks his lips, and it’s impossible for Jun to look away from them. “Seems to me you’re very drunk, Sho-san.”  
  
“Am I?” Sho asks with a laugh. It fans Jun’s face. Sho’s breath smells like a mixture of whiskey, vodka, and brandy, but Jun doesn’t care. This is the only time Sakurai Sho let his guard down around him. “Was just telling the truth.”  
  
“That I’m pretty?”  
  
“That.” Sho points to him with a finger. “That, and that you’re not making it easy.”  
  
“You guys are too close!” Aiba says, who appears as he hands Jun another drink. It’s a cocktail, and it’s the indicator that the night has been going on for almost three hours now that everybody’s inebriated enough.  
  
Except Jun. Jun thinks he’s still pretty sober.  
  
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sho asks, waving his hand weakly. “He’s my boyfriend.”  
  
“Don’t make out here now,” Aiba says, but he’s laughing. Then he gets elbowed out of the way by a drunken Ohno, who now has a sash wrapped around his forehead. The sash has a messy handwriting that says _I’m getting hitched!!!!!!_ , and Jun suspects it’s Aiba’s doing.  
  
“Dance with me, Sho-kun!” Ohno says, taking both of Sho’s hands and pulling him to the makeshift dance floor. Sho stumbles but recovers, and soon, he and Ohno are shaking their hips to some upbeat music.  
  
Jun takes a sip from the cocktail Aiba gave him and proceeds to watch. Sho did say they would dance for the wedding, a special number of sorts as a surprise to Haru-chan. He wants to know if Sho can move his body to the music.  
  
Ohno definitely can, and for a drunken man, he seems to have a nimble body and loose limbs. He grooves with the music, basking in the applause and cheers around him.  
  
Sho, on the other hand, mostly jumps in place and lets out high-pitched cheers along with everybody else. But while he’s evidently not as talented as Ohno on the dance floor, his drunken movements allow Jun a good view of him from the waist down.  
  
Jun’s tipsy enough to not lie: he likes what he sees. Toned legs, thick thighs, and a perky ass.  
  
He’s curious what else the Sakurai package might have to boast.  
  
“It’s time for a game!” Aiba yells, which earns another series of agreeing yells. Jun adds his own to the mix to blend in, now playing with the straw that came with his cocktail.  
  
Aiba whips out chopsticks, and of course, it’s the ousama game. Jun wonders why he thought it’d be anything else.  
  
“I get to be king!” Ohno hollers enthusiastically, waving both of his arms.  
  
“Of course you’re the king,” Aiba answers with the same high spirits. “You’re the man of the night!”  
  
“Yay!” Ohno cheers, and he’s jumping up and down with Sho like a grade schooler in his happiness.  
  
Jun can’t help laughing at the sight of them.  
  
Aiba manages to pick out the chopstick that says KING and hands it to Ohno, then he offers his hand to Sho.  
  
“Pick one Sho-chan, and don’t tell anyone what number you got,” Aiba says, a finger hovering over his own lips.  
  
Sho does, and Aiba moves to the rest. Jun assumes he offered it only to the single men since Taichi-san from earlier is on another table and laughing at some joke somebody else said.  
  
When there are only two chopsticks left, Aiba heads to where Jun is, smiling at him.  
  
“You take one, I’ll have the one that’s left,” Aiba says.  
  
Jun sneaks a glance in Sho’s direction and finds him with his arm around Ohno, giggling about something Ohno whispered to him.  
  
He takes a chopstick and draws the number 7.  
  
Aiba signals for the game to start, and Ohno stands on a stool so everyone can hear him.  
  
“I want number 4 and number 8 to finish all the drinks in their table in one minute,” Ohno declares. “It’s a race!”  
  
Two men close to Jun’s age react with outbursts, but Aiba, always the mood-maker, pushes them to their respective tables.  
  
“Come on, Maru, Yasu! You heard Oh-chan!”  
  
Sho’s laughing now, clutching his stomach as the two guys try to finish everything. Jun counts down with everyone else, until they reach the last second of that minute and Aiba raises the arm of the now-red-faced Yasu, declaring him as the winner.  
  
Cheers erupt and Jun applauds with everybody else. Sho takes a seat beside him, still laughing but panting a little. He’s sweating profusely, and Jun offers him the cocktail to help him cool down.  
  
“This one has no straw,” Sho complains, pouting.  
  
“That’s because I have the straw,” Jun says, biting on the edge of it so it hangs between his lips. He takes it between his fingers and lets the tip rest on Sho’s bottom lip.  
  
Sho bites on the straw and proceeds to drink the cocktail while Jun slouches in his seat.  
  
“Number 2 and number 5 should come up here and give me a duet!” Ohno orders, and it’s Aiba who stands.  
  
For some reason, Aiba picks an Oda Kazumasa song, wrapping an arm around one guy who’s already crying.  
  
“Why is he crying?” Jun asks Sho, laughing a bit at the embarrassing display.  
  
“Yoko always cries at Oda Kazumasa,” Sho says in between his happy chuckles, clapping his hands. “Aiba-chan’s going to cry too. Any moment now.”  
  
True to Sho’s prediction, Aiba cries, then Ohno cries with him, leading to three drunken men crying a few feet away from where Jun and Sho are.  
  
“You guys suck!” someone screams, but everyone laughs after.  
  
When the chorus is finished, Ohno is wiping at his eyes. “I’m just so happy everyone’s here. I’m happy Aiba-chan brought me here, organized this for me. I’m glad he kidnapped me with Sho-chan and Matsujun’s help. Thank you!”  
  
“He did not just say kidnapped,” Jun says, finding it unbelievable.  
  
Beside him, Sho just raises his cocktail, acknowledging Ohno’s gratitude.  
  
“For the next one,” Ohno says, sniffing and wiping at his eyes, “I want number 7 and 3 to stand up.”  
  
One of those is Jun, so he does.  
  
To his surprise, Sho’s on his feet, too.  
  
That earns a couple of wolf whistles, the loudest one being from Aiba himself, who seems to have recovered from his display of manly tears earlier.  
  
Ohno blinks for a moment, just looking at them, then he grins.  
  
“Number 7,” Ohno begins, his teeth almost gleaming because of how wide his smile is, “will do body shots.”  
  
The guys around them cheer, and Jun finds himself getting shoved forward, towards the bar along with Sho.  
  
Ohno pats the countertop and Aiba brings out the lime and the salt, calling over the staff for shots of tequila.  
  
Jun’s honestly not surprised Aiba came here prepared for something like this.  
  
There’s a chorus of “body shots, body shots!” around them now, and Jun steps into Sho’s space to whisper in his ear.  
  
“We’re going to do this. Everyone’s watching,” he tells Sho, who, after a brief moment, gives a stiff nod.  
  
Then Jun draws back and raises his voice, loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear, “Lose the shirt, Sho-san.”  
  
Aiba’s half-yelling and half-whistling now and the rest of the guests are with him. Even those who aren’t part of the game are off their seats, looking over with curiosity. Ohno did introduce them as a couple, but Jun catches Ariyoshi’s watchful eye somewhere to their right.  
  
Jun will give him something convincing, all right.  
  
He extends his hand towards Aiba, who gives him the salt and the bowl of limes.  
  
Jun turns, and by this time Sho’s shirt is already draped on a stool, and Sho stands with his back against the countertop, shivering.  
  
“It’s cold,” Sho complains, rubbing at his arms.  
  
Jun ignores him, and instead says, “Lie back,” gesturing with his chin. He makes sure his voice is low enough to be suggestive, and of course, it earns another series of whistles.  
  
Sho does, but when he looks at Jun, something’s changed. He’s not hesitant anymore, like all the alcohol he’s imbibed finally gave him the liquid courage he’d been looking for.  
  
Jun grabs a slice of lime and wraps his lips around it, before leaning down to press it against Sho’s mouth.  
  
Around them, the crowd seems to get more and more uninhibited, but Jun hardly hears them. His focus is on Sho, who takes the lime from him, biting on to it as he raises his arms and gets comfortable.  
  
Jun licks his lips unconsciously; he definitely can appreciate what he’s seeing. While Sho doesn’t have defined abs, he looks like someone who keeps his body fit, someone with a regular gym membership and is using it; his toned arms and flat stomach serve as proof.  
  
He takes in the expanse of skin bared right before him and mentally asks himself where he wants to start.  
  
Jun takes a pinch of the salt and sprinkles it right across Sho’s stomach.  
  
Without looking, he grabs a shot glass from the table and looks at Ohno.  
  
“How many shots do you want, Ohno-san?”  
  
Ohno grins, his eyes glassy and cheeks so red, but he looks very much pleased. “Since you’re number 7, I want seven.”  
  
Seven. Jun is not one to back down from a challenge, not when there are people watching.  
  
And especially when Sho looks so willing, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted.  
  
Jun ducks without another word, licking off the salt close to Sho’s navel. He doesn’t miss the mark of a former piercing as he pulls back. Sho twitches, but by then Jun’s downing his first shot, then leaning down again to bite on the lime.  
  
The juice smears on Sho’s lips when he withdraws, and he watches as Sho spits the lime to the side, pokes out his tongue, and licks the rest of the juice off.  
  
Jun’s eyes snap back to Sho’s face, and he discovers that Sho’s been watching him.  
  
Sho couldn’t have done that for audience impact. That...that was for Jun.  
  
Jun pays no mind to their spectators now, grabbing another slice of lime and pressing it against Sho’s mouth. Before he can grab the salt, Ohno beats him to it.  
  
Ohno sprinkles the salt right over Sho’s clavicle, gesturing to Jun with a wave of his hand.  
  
“Congratulations on your marriage, Ohno-san,” Jun says, then he tilts his head and flattens his tongue to follow the line of bone, going slowly to feel Sho’s skin shudder beneath him.  
  
He downs his second shot, and it’s easier now to bite onto the lime that Sho has, since he’s closer.  
  
Jun, being Jun, remembers Sho’s boundaries as he sucks on the lime. Does this count as a kiss for Sho? There’s a dare involved, so it shouldn’t. Jun’s going to use that as a technicality the moment Sho brings it up.  
  
But when he pulls away, Sho’s watching him with such a soft look in his eyes. The lime is still trapped between his lips, but Jun’s eyes are following that trail of juice that slides from Sho’s bottom lip down to the curve of his jaw.  
  
Jun wants to lick that off too, if he’s being honest.  
  
But Aiba’s hand gets between him and Sho before he can, and Aiba places another slice of lime between Sho’s teeth.  
  
Ohno sprinkles the salt around Sho’s nipple this time, leading to a raucous response from the people around them.  
  
Jun grabs his next tequila shot, raises it in Ohno’s direction, and ducks.  
  
His fourth shot has the salt lining Sho’s pulse, and Jun certain he’s tasting some of Sho’s sweat as he licks that one off.  
  
The fifth one has Ohno circling Sho’s navel with salt, and when Jun leans down, he feels the hole left by a piercing touch his tongue.  
  
The sixth has Jun licking salt off on top of Sho’s chest, right above his right nipple. He thinks he hears Sho gasp, but it’s hard to tell with all the noise around them.  
  
For Jun’s last shot, Ohno sprinkles the salt over Sho’s throat up to his chin, and he tells Sho not to move.  
  
Jun licks his lips once and ducks for the last time, tongue tracing the column slowly. He winces at the burn and taste of his last shot but bites onto the lime immediately.  
  
When he pulls back, Sho’s eyes are dark and glassy, his cheeks tinged with pink, his breaths coming out labored. They’re so close and despite all the noise, Jun’s only attuned to the sounds he can hear from Sho.  
  
He takes lime from Sho and deposits it to their side, not caring where it lands. He doesn’t care if they made an impression, put on a convincing show—all he sees is Sho, watching him like he’s waiting for something, for more.  
  
“Want to get out of here?” Jun whispers, unable to quell the hope bubbling in him.  
  
“Take me home,” Sho whispers back.  
  
And Jun does.  
  
\--  
  
The way back is all a blur, a mixture of bright city lights and street signs.  
  
Sho’s half-sagging against him by the time they make it back to the hotel room, but Jun is able to push Sho towards the bed. Sho grabs him by the arms as he falls, and they end up tumbling down together.  
  
Jun draws back, looks at Sho’s face. Sho’s clearly drunk, so drunk that perhaps, he is no longer minding the proximity. Was it only the night before that Jun wanted Sho to act more naturally around him?  
  
Sho’s looking right at his mouth, and Jun wants to kiss him. But Sho has set his limitations, so Jun hesitates, breathes right over Sho’s mouth and waits.  
  
It’s Sho who makes a move, but instead of kissing Jun, he presses his mouth on Jun’s jaw, one long kiss that he repeats as he travels down, down, down, until he latches on to Jun’s neck.  
  
Jun exhales, letting Sho’s tongue and teeth explore, alternating between nipping and kissing.  
  
“You have so many of these,” Sho says, lips brushing over Jun’s throat.  
  
“Of what?” Jun manages to ask, and it comes out breathless and rushed. It’s so warm, and he feels far too clothed. But he doesn’t move, stays on top of Sho as Sho plants chaste kisses again and again.  
  
“These...dots,” Sho answers, like he can’t find the right word. “So many dots. One, two, three.” Sho’s fingers trace Jun’s lips, and Sho pulls back a little to look at him. “You have so many dots.” He tilts his head, inhales against the crook of Jun’s next. “And there’s one right here.”  
  
Jun gasps at the feel of Sho sucking right over his pulse. He shifts, feeling his erection press insistently against the material of his jeans. Sho’s still sucking on his neck, and if he doesn’t stop, Jun thinks it’ll leave a mark, big enough for anyone to see.  
  
Right now, Jun can’t find it in him to care.  
  
He wants Sho’s mouth closer, so he doesn’t move, or at least attempts not to. His body is responding to Sho’s efforts on its own, and Jun wants to reciprocate, wants to taste more of Sho now that they’re alone and there are no onlookers.  
  
He flips them so Sho’s on top, and Sho finally withdraws from his assault on Jun’s neck.  
  
Sho’s lips are plump and swollen, so red from all the kissing and sucking, and Jun cranes his neck, intent of finding out how a combination of whiskey, vodka, and brandy taste from Sho’s mouth. They’re only a breath away, and Jun’s got his eyes shut—  
  
“Ow,” Sho groans, then he winces and pulls back, rolling to lie on Jun’s side. “Ow, ow.”  
  
Jun blinks, then his brain seems to rewire itself and he sits up, looking at Sho with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”  
  
“My leg,” Sho says, eyes shut. He seems to be in a great deal of pain. “I pulled something. Ow. It really hurts. It hurts. It hurts!”  
  
Jun wants to scream. But Sho seems to be in genuine distress, now curled in on himself with his back turned to Jun. Jun considers leaving him to it, but Sho lets out another pained moan, then it sounds like he’s beginning to cry.  
  
Jun grabs his shoulder to have him lie on his back, and he reaches for Sho’s leg, placing it on his lap. “Where does it hurt?” he asks, despite still being frustrated.  
  
“The leg, close to my ankle, there, right there,” Sho says in succession, and Jun sighs, resigns himself to massaging whatever tendon or muscle it is that Sho carelessly pulled right in the middle of their makeout session.  
  
Of all timings. Jun wants to curse, scream, throw a fit, or do all of those at the same time. He presses his knuckles harder against Sho’s sole in annoyance and Sho hisses as a reaction, eyes screwed shut. Jun proceeds to massage the sore area anyway, shaking his head every now and then.  
  
His erection has definitely subsided thanks to Sho’s moment of glory, and by the time Jun’s lustful haze has completely dissipated, Sho’s already snoring lightly, half-turned to his side and mouth open.  
  
Jun puts down Sho’s leg and leaves him on the bed, intending to take the couch tonight. He takes all of the pillows for himself as a form of revenge, leaving Sho with only the thin sheet since he decides to take the duvet too.  
  
But Jun’s not that cruel so after he washes up a bit, he does leave a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand.  
  
He lies down on the couch still mostly pissed off, barricaded by pillows and buried under a thick duvet.  
  
When Sho’s snores begin to fill the room, Jun groans.  
  
“I hate you,” he says out loud, despite Sho not hearing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rochi drew something for two scenes in this chunk (particularly the pre-Ariyoshi scene and the body shots scene), and you can check them out [here](https://rochiii.livejournal.com/5072.html)! Send her some love if you can!


	3. Chapter 3

Sho wakes up to a skull-splitting headache. He shuts his eyes as soon as he opens them; the sunlight from the windows too bright. He rolls over to his side, cracks one eye open and finds a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water, both of which he downs immediately.  
  
He sits on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands, the heels of his palms resting right over his eyes as he waits for the medication to take effect. It takes a while because his headache seems to be the size of Tokyo Dome, but it gradually starts to disappear.  
  
When the headache has faded a bit and Sho can open his eyes, he sees himself in last night’s clothes, the bed bereft of pillows with only the thin fitted sheet left.  
  
There’s a human-sized mound in his periphery, and he blinks several times before he realizes it must be Matsumoto. Sho can’t remember how they managed to get back, but he knows it has to be Matsumoto’s doing since he can’t remember much aside from laughing a lot and some game with chopsticks.  
  
Chopsticks. Ohno. The game. Ohno as the king.  
  
Sho rushes to the bathroom and locks the door, studies his face in the mirror. What happened last night? He remembers the cheering and the wolf whistles, Matsumoto’s lips right on his ear saying they have to do something—  
  
“Oh god,” Sho says, clutching at the sink for support. Body shots. He remembers the lime. It was sour, but he didn’t get to taste all of it.  
  
And Matsumoto. Matsumoto was the one doing the body shots, licking salt off...from where exactly?  
  
“Oh god,” Sho repeats, pressing a hand to his face. He doesn’t remember where, but he remembers a tongue—ticklish, slow, deliberate. Matsumoto licked salt off his body, and he lay there on the bar countertop, completely willing.  
  
Sho’s not embarrassed by his submission. It was a dare, one that he agreed to do. He’s horrified by the idea that he doesn’t remember all of it, that there’s a part of him that really, really, really wants to remember now that he knows that it was Matsumoto who did all the licking.  
  
He stares at his own reflection and pats his cheeks to wake himself up.  
  
He needs a shave. Then a bath. He can’t think of Matsumoto and his talented tongue, not when the other man is asleep and unaware. Does Matsumoto remember what happened? Will he remember when he wakes up?  
  
Great, Sho thinks. Whatever happened last night, he doesn’t think he can ask anyone, in case he had done humiliating things he would live happier not knowing about.  
  
But a part of him remains curious, wanting the details. He doesn’t remember anything after the body shots. He doesn’t even remember how many shots Ohno asked Matsumoto to do. All he can recall is a tongue against his skin.  
  
He’s under the shower when it comes back, that he asked Matsumoto to take him home. Now that Sho’s sober, home is the poor choice of word for it but Matsumoto didn’t seem to mind.  
  
Sho shakes his head, annoyed at himself. He must’ve been a sight, a grown man in his thirties, asking another to take him home after a round of body shots. The last time he engaged in something like that, he was blond and more confident but less restrained, in his early twenties and still in university.  
  
What else did he do last night? His past drunken episodes courtesy of Aiba, Ohno, and Nino had him doing strip teases, immortalized in a shaky but clear video that those three still possess. Sho prays no one remembered to take a video of whatever happened the night before.  
  
He’s drying himself off with a towel when he hears a knock on the door that startles him.  
  
“I need to pee,” Matsumoto says behind the door, his voice gruff and scratchy.  
  
“Just a sec!” Sho says in panic, hastily wrapping the towel around his lower half. He hasn’t even reached his hair, and he runs a hand through the wet strands.  
  
He grabs his clothes and opens the door.  
  
Matsumoto has this frown on his face when Sho looks at him, but it quickly disappears. His mouth parts slightly as his eyes stray lower on Sho’s form, then he seems to catch himself, blinking repeatedly.  
  
“Pee,” is all Matsumoto says. He doesn’t even have his glasses on, which means he just rushed to the bathroom as soon as his bladder ordered him to.  
  
Sho gets elbowed to the side and the door slams shut. Sho thinks he may have seen something on Matsumoto’s neck, but he wasn’t able to confirm it since the guy’s locked in the bathroom now.  
  
He proceeds to get dressed, and he at least has his top and jeans on by the time Matsumoto exits the bathroom.  
  
“What would you like for breakfast?” Sho asks, grabbing his phone. He’s greeted by a couple of winking emojis from Aiba, a few thumbs up emojis from Ohno, and the most distressing of all: Nino’s message of _So has Jun-kun managed to lick every inch of your body by now?_  
  
Sho is not mentally equipped to deal with any of these at the moment. He turns to Matsumoto and the man shrugs, one hand rubbing his neck.  
  
“My head seems determined to kill me, so I’m not all about breakfast at the moment,” Matsumoto says, returning to his nest of blankets and pillows on the couch. There’s something off about him, like his strides are too calculated that it’s almost robotic.  
  
“I’ll just order room service,” Sho tries.  
  
“Whatever,” is the half-muffled reply before Matsumoto covers his face with a pillow.  
  
Sho racks his brains for any reason why the guy is treating him coldly. He seems to remember them being too close the night before, to the point Aiba complained and warned them not to makeout in public.  
  
As if they would.  
  
He faces his phone and ignores Ohno and Aiba’s messages, tapping on Nino’s.  
  
 _Please tell me you’re just the next Nostradamus and there’s no video of it_ , he sends.  
  
His phone beeps, almost immediately at that. _I don’t know, Sho-chan. You seemed totally into it. ;)_  
  
Fuck. _Is it on instagram? Tell me it’s not anywhere online._  
  
The ellipses only appear for a brief moment. Nino has always been a fast typer despite having small hands. _It’s on LINE, thanks to Aiba-shi’s efforts._  
  
Definitely not in the LINE group Sho shares with the other three. Perhaps Nino pertains to his private one with Aiba.  
  
Before he can reply, he receives a video attachment with a duration of thirty-two seconds.  
  
Sho makes sure he’s in the bathroom with the door shut before he taps on it, letting it play.  
  
The camera’s shaking for the most part, but it’s definitely the bar, with loud cheers and booming bass serving as background music. And it’s definitely him, lying on the bar countertop with arms above his head.  
  
It’s also _definitely_ him and Matsumoto, doing a round of body shots while Ohno looks incredibly happy and high as he watches them. The camera shakes again, with Aiba saying, “I got to get closer for this,” then he _is_ closer, the camera right above Sho as Matsumoto licks off a line of salt right on top of his nipple.  
  
The Sho in the video arches, eyes sliding shut. His body is _writhing_.  
  
Sho is honestly mortified.  
  
The video ends in rambunctious screaming, and his phone beeps as another message from Nino arrives.  
  
 _So do you now have a legitimate answer for the sex question?_  
  
Sho glares at his phone, pretending it’s Nino. _No. And before you ask, that’s because we didn’t._  
  
 _You mean not yet._  
  
Sho does a mental count. _We were pretty drunk last night, Nino. You’ve seen the video._  
  
The reply is instant, like Nino was in the middle of typing it already. _Oh, you were drunk, all right. But I doubt Jun-kun was._  
  
Sho chooses not to reply to that one, instead switching apps to find the restaurant list he had a colleague at work make. Would Matsumoto be in the mood for an American breakfast? There’s a hotdog joint that Sho really wants to check out.  
  
Recalling that Matsumoto did leave things up to him, Sho makes the call and places an order. When he’s done, he heads back out, finding his companion still buried under the thick duvet, so he busies himself with the newspaper instead.  
  
It eats up an hour of his time. The delivery arrives by the time he reaches the sports section, and he takes the paper bag and pays for it with his own money. When he’s done setting the table for their late breakfast, he catches Matsumoto sitting up in his periphery.  
  
“I got us hotdogs,” Sho says, flashing the man a small smile. Matsumoto doesn’t acknowledge him. “I picked a chili corn dog for you because it has good reviews, but if you want to try mine, that’s okay too.”  
  
Matsumoto puts his glasses on and blinks blearily as he faces Sho, and that’s when Sho sees it: a blemish of purple and red on Matsumoto’s neck, a stark contrast to the pale column of his throat. Sho blinks at the sight of it, mouth hanging open.  
  
Matsumoto seems to notice his reaction, raising a self-conscious hand to hide it as he looks away, but it’s too late. The mark is evidently fresh; Sho can remember no hickey on the man’s neck when they went to the bar.  
  
Before Sho can think on it, he asks, “Where did you get that?”  
  
Matsumoto’s eyes snap back to his, and they seem angry behind his glasses. Then Matsumoto laughs, mocking and sarcastic. “I’m not even surprised,” he says, mostly to himself, but Sho hears it anyway.  
  
“What?” Sho asks.  
  
Matsumoto gives him a look, one that’s almost a glare. “What do you remember from last night, Sho-san?”  
  
“The video,” Sho says unwittingly.  
  
“I beg your pardon?”  
  
“I mean the body shots,” Sho tries, but Matsumoto has an eyebrow quirked now, and it’s a rather intimidating look on him.  
  
“There is a video of the body shots?” Matsumoto holds up his hand just as Sho opens his mouth to respond. “Don’t answer that. What else do you remember?”  
  
“I asked you to take me home.”  
  
“That’s all?”  
  
Sho purses his lips. “I remember nothing after that.”  
  
“Typical,” Matsumoto says, a tongue against his cheek. He seems to be annoyed at Sho.  
  
“Did I give you that, Matsumoto-san?” Sho asks quietly, pertaining to the hickey.  
  
“Does it look like something I got from someone else in that bar?” Matsumoto asks back.  
  
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that’s out of Sho’s mouth.  
  
“Are you apologizing for the question or are you sorry that it happened?” There’s something in Matsumoto’s voice now, his tone clipped.  
  
Sho hesitates. This is a very awkward conversation, one that Sho didn’t imagine he’d have with a paid escort.  
  
A paid but also a very handsome—and possibly Sho’s type—kind of escort.  
  
“I wasn’t supposed to do that,” Sho says.  
  
“You hired me.”  
  
That’s exactly the point here, Sho wants to say. Instead he goes for, “Yes. And that wasn’t supposed to happen.”  
  
Matsumoto looks at him, and the tone of his voice is indecipherable. “Why not?”  
  
Because it’s not real, Sho thinks. None of this is real. It’s just an arrangement. A paid arrangement to shift people’s attention elsewhere. Matsumoto Jun is not really his boyfriend. He’s someone Sho paid to act like one, and Sho’s feeling guilty now.  
  
What if Matsumoto simply let it happen because Sho’s paying him to do his part, to play along? Sho feels sick—that makes him no different from someone who committed sexual harassment.  
  
The hotdogs he ordered don’t seem too inviting now.  
  
Sho runs a hand down his face, ashamed. “I paid for you to act as my boyfriend. I didn’t pay you to sleep with me or to be receptive to any advances I might have made. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.”  
  
Matsumoto’s voice is angry when he speaks next. “Do you think I allowed it because you were paying me?”  
  
What else could it be? Sho knows that only those with money can request for the company of Matsumoto. He’s an escort—he must be used to clients making advances towards him. And he’s used to responding to them accordingly; that’s his job. Sho feels lightheaded, as if there’s alcohol again that’s rushing to his head.  
  
Matsumoto let him do it because Sho is his current employer. It’s just a job for him, and Sho _is_ the current job. Clearly, Matsumoto let it continue as far as it could because it was what the job had called for him to do.  
  
That’s all Sho is and that’s all he’ll ever be. Sho drags his hand away from his face, wondering if he looks so pitiful in Matsumoto’s eyes that the man allowed him to do whatever he wanted. Did he look so lonely, so desperate?  
  
“Does it matter?” Sho asks in the end. “It’s done. But I can promise it won’t happen again. I’ll be more careful from now on.”  
  
“Did you hate it?” Matsumoto asks, his voice small. “Did you hate it that much for you to say that?”  
  
Does Sho hate it? Yes. He hates what this arrangement has brought him. He thought it would solve a problem but instead it gave him a dozen more. Now he’s made moves towards a man who’s unlikely to reciprocate, and he remembers nothing about it but still feels responsible and guilty.  
  
Because Matsumoto clearly allowed it without giving anything back. That’s the part Sho can’t think about without feeling hurt; he must have been the only one who wanted it. The body shots was a dare and Matsumoto’s competitive side didn’t back down from dares. But whatever came after had no excuse.  
  
“Yes,” Sho says, looking away now. “It’s the worst thing.”  
  
Silence falls between them, and Sho allows it to drag on despite feeling very uncomfortable. He doesn’t know what else to say.  
  
Matsumoto exhales, standing up. “That’s some...feedback. I guess I did ask for it.” He laughs, but it sounds so hollow. “I’m going shopping. Please don’t hesitate to send a message in case you need me.”  
  
Matsumoto heads for the bathroom and he shuts the door, leaving Sho staring at his takeout.  
  
Sho pushes the food away from him and buries his face in his hands.  
  
\--  
  
Matsumoto disappears after that, not touching the food Sho had ordered for him. Sho busies himself with having a stroll around the hotel premises, checking out facilities and restaurants. He eventually reaches the beach that’s owned by the hotel, and he takes a seat on the shore, watching the scenery before him.  
  
It’s almost sunset. The clouds are turning purple and the stars are beginning to appear, half of the sun already disappearing on the horizon. It’s orange now and the water shines, like there are precious stones carried over by each wave.  
  
It’s a lovely sight. Sho wishes he’s not alone to witness this.  
  
His phone beeps, and when he checks, it’s a message from Ohno.  
  
 _Fireworks tonight at the beach, courtesy of the hotel management. At midnight. See you there?_  
  
Sho smiles and taps the text box. _Was that a group message, sent to everyone who’s here for your wedding?_  
  
It takes a minute or two, but his phone vibrates once more. _Yeah. But I removed the ‘hotel management’ part in my messages to the others so they’ll think I organized it. :D I’ll see you at the beach with Matsujun!_  
  
Sho ponders on what to reply, and he settles for a simple thumbs up emoji in the end. He opens his message thread with Matsumoto and tells him that Ohno’s expecting them to be at the beach for a fireworks display.  
  
It doesn’t take long for Sho to receive a reply from Matsumoto.  
  
 _Understood._  
  
One word response with proper punctuation and no emojis. Very formal and direct.  
  
Sho tucks his phone away and stares out, finds that the sun has almost completely set. People who were swimming are beginning their return to shore, and as it gets darker, the fire from the nearby torches become the source of light for Sho. He remains where he is anyway, basking in his solitude for as long as he could since it allows him to think.  
  
When did his perspective about this arrangement begin to change? It’s hard to pinpoint, since the line between reality and faking it blurs for someone as inexperienced as Sho. He won’t deny that he finds Matsumoto attractive—both the escort and the man behind it.  
  
To Sho, there are two sides to the man he hired. The paid escort with perfect hair and a charming persona, always ready to give a show when he notices that someone’s looking. The ideal companion whose wit and smiles enamor people into liking him, never revealing much about himself aside from what his online profile says.  
  
That one operates when they’re not alone, paid hourly for his efforts.  
  
Then there’s Matsumoto Jun, the one who wears large-framed glasses instead of contacts, a person who’s terrible with mornings and isn’t hiding it. A man who painstakingly labels each item he has shopped for with a piece of sticker paper with names handwritten in permanent marker. One who complains about the lack of scent in hotel-issued soaps but uses them anyway.  
  
That side of Matsumoto only surfaces when they’re inside their room, when no one’s around to look at them and discover what they really are to each other.  
  
Sho wonders who was it that he spoke to earlier before Matsumoto left. Was that the escort, taking offense at Sho’s feedback (as Matsumoto himself refers to it) on his performance? Or was that the person underneath the escort, someone who’s not acting and speaking to Sho without thinking of Sho as his employer?  
  
The disappointing part in this, Sho thinks, is that he’ll never know. Matsumoto has many sides to him. Sometimes he’s grouchy and intimidating, sometimes he’s kind and accommodating. But are any of those real in the first place? Sho can’t tell what’s real and what’s not, which one of Matsumoto’s actions might mean something (assuming they do mean something and not just part of acting).  
  
He checks his watch for the date and counts five more days until the wedding. In a week, the arrangement is over. He’ll pay the remaining half, and Matsumoto Jun will vanish from his life, free to accept requests again.  
  
Is that all he is to the guy? Just another source of money? Sho never had that impression. Matsumoto may be exacting, but Sho can feel the respect the man attributes to him. More than anything, Matsumoto evidently respects him.  
  
Sho tries to convince himself to be contented with that. They still have to fake it for almost a week, after all. He tells himself that he can’t want more, not when it’s from a service he’s paying for.  
  
He can’t ask for more because it’s not real.  
  
Sho stands and wipes off the sand that stuck to his clothes. He heads back to the hotel, intending to flip through some movies until midnight to have something that’ll occupy his time.  
  
The alarm he’s set for midnight rings when he’s halfway into Pacific Rim, right when Ashida Mana’s character debuts on screen. Matsumoto hasn’t shown up in the hotel room, so Sho can only assume he’s already waiting at the beach.  
  
Sho pauses the movie (his third movie since he returned to the room) and shrugs his jacket on, pocketing his phone and heading out once more.  
  
When he reaches the ground floor, Aiba and Shihori spot him. Shihori cheerfully loops her arm around Sho’s and the three of them head to the beach together.  
  
“Where’s Jun-san?” Shihori asks, some of her hair moving with the wind despite most being trapped in a messy bun.  
  
“At the beach already,” Sho says, despite not knowing if it’s true. “He went shopping all day.”  
  
“He does look like the type who buys a lot,” Shihori says, laughing. “I noticed his shoes the other day. Cute pompoms.”  
  
“You mean horrible,” Sho says, not really joking. It was cute because it was Matsumoto wearing it. But Sho didn’t care if those shoes were Louboutin or from any high-class fashion brand. There were ugly shoes and there were _unexplainable_ shoes.  
  
Matsumoto’s shoes at that time fall under the latter.  
  
“You’re going to pay for that Sho-chan,” Aiba says, throwing an arm around him. “Don’t let him hear you.”  
  
“Don’t tell him,” Sho says, nudging Aiba with his shoulder. “And you too, Shihori-chan.”  
  
“Your fashion outlook is safe with me,” Shihori says with a grin. “As always.”  
  
They reach the beach where people have gathered, and it doesn’t take long for them to locate Ohno’s group. It’s Haru-chan who waves at them, and Sho waves back as Shihori sprints and gives Haru a hug.  
  
“It’s starting in a few,” Ohno says, and Sho sees Matsumoto with him. “Matsujun was already here when we arrived.”  
  
“Sho-san said midnight,” Matsumoto reasons, but he isn’t looking at Sho while he says it.  
  
“And it is past midnight so where is that staff guy,” Ohno grumbles before looking around and walking away.  
  
“I better go and follow him,” Aiba says, already trudging after Ohno. “He might complain in full Japanese and the staff will just stare at him.”  
  
Sho waves them off, hyper aware of being alone with Matsumoto. Technically, they’re not alone since they’re surrounded by Ohno’s other guests, but everyone’s having a chat with someone and isn’t paying any attention to them.  
  
“How was your shopping?” Sho asks just to have something to say. The silence between them is uncomfortable.  
  
“Got what I needed,” Matsumoto answers.  
  
“That’s good to know,” Sho says, just as a dash of white smoke splits the sky in half before red sparks color the night sky.  
  
A series of awed gasps erupt from around them, but Sho doesn’t pay attention. He keeps looking up, eventually smiling as different kinds of fireworks illuminate their surroundings intermittently, bathing them in almost iridescent hues.  
  
Sho tenses when he feels an arm wrap around his middle, but before he can react, he hears a whisper right against his ear.  
  
“Play along,” Matsumoto tells him. “We’re blending in.”  
  
Sho looks around and finds couples around them with arms around each other, watching the fireworks display with awed and happy expressions.  
  
Matsumoto holds him in both arms now, chin hooked on Sho’s shoulder. “Just play along.”  
  
Sho hates that drop in his gut at the idea of this being all an act, but he can’t help being selfish. He presses back, his weight against Matsumoto’s firm chest, their body heat mingling.  
  
It’s not real, his mind screams, and it stings. But he’s been doing a lot of pretending for this week and will have to do more for the next, so to him the next course of action is to keep on doing it.  
  
Sho rests his hands on Matsumoto’s forearms and looks up at the night sky without really seeing. He imagines a scenario that doesn’t involve a website and a credit card and promises himself this will be the last time he’d indulge in such a fantasy.  
  
But for now, Sho savors the proximity and does what he’s been good at for the past few days.  
  
Pretending.  
  
\--  
  
Aiba calls for practice the following day, and Sho goes to his hotel room with Matsumoto in tow.  
  
Things between him and Matsumoto are quiet. They talk, but it’s mostly stilted. When they have a conversation, it’s about what’s going to happen for the following week, about schedules and plans. They sleep on the same bed, but Matsumoto places a pillow between them to keep their sides separate.  
  
In front of others is a different story.  
  
In Aiba’s hotel room and in front of Ohno and Ohno’s other friends, they continue with the act. Matsumoto places a hand on the small of Sho’s back as Aiba tells them to get off the couch and find their places. Sho reciprocates, hands framing Matsumoto’s narrow waist as he helps him get into their designated positions according to Ohno’s wishes.  
  
It’s Ohno who choreographed the whole thing, a simple dance number for his bride. They have specific roles because Ohno’s uncharacteristically exacting about this surprise. One group is assigned to a specific dance number while Ohno and his team of groomsmen dance to the entire thing.  
  
Sho is one of those groomsmen, but his dancing skills aren’t up to par with Ohno—a reality since high school that Sho’s come to accept.  
  
Except when he’s holding everyone back.  
  
“I call for a break,” Ohno says after an hour and a half, and everyone agrees. He offers to buy refreshments from the nearest convenience store and everybody pitches in, save for Sho who still tries to get the counting right in his head.  
  
Aiba’s hotel room is bigger than the one Sho’s got; Aiba is the best man after all. Sho heads for the fridge and bums one of the water bottles Aiba stashed in there, taking a huge gulp.  
  
“You okay?” Aiba asks, eyeing him with concern. Aiba’s soaked in sweat, no different from Sho, but unlike Sho, he still has this happy demeanor to him.  
  
“Yeah,” Sho says with a shrug.  
  
“Did something happen?” Aiba steps closer, his voice growing quiet. “Between you and Matsujun, I mean.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I have the same expression, you know.” Aiba pats his back in what appears to be a gesture of comfort. “Or so Shihori tells me. She says I look in her direction like a scolded puppy whenever we get into a fight.”  
  
Sho shakes his head in denial. “I totally don’t look like a scolded puppy.”  
  
“But you look at him like you’re waiting for something,” Aiba says. “You sure things are okay?”  
  
Sho tips the water bottle once more into his mouth. “They’re fine. I’m going to practice, all right?”  
  
“Remember to take a breather,” Aiba says as a reminder, clapping his back before leaving him alone.  
  
Sho opts to continue practicing in the kitchen, away from prying eyes. If he’s holding everybody back, he needs to exert more effort. He wants to do his part right so Ohno can move on to the next, and the next, and the next. They’re far from completing whatever Ohno prepared, and unless Sho gets something as simple as the counting right, they’re not going further ahead.  
  
He has been told he’s too hard on himself, but to Sho, that’s what the situation calls for most of the time. He always pushes himself. His limits aren’t really limits; to him, they’re more like markers that he needs to do more if he wants to go beyond them.  
  
He’s also been told it’s an annoying part of his personality—that stubbornness. His ex had told him that he often ignored things around him in his desires to do better, and Sho’s been trying to be mindful of his surroundings since someone told him that.  
  
Which is why despite failing and failing, he starts from the top and does the counting again, trying not to let his frustrations show.  
  
“It’s one-two-three _and_ four,” is what Sho hears next, and he finds Matsumoto leaning against the kitchen island. Sho didn’t notice him enter the kitchen; he’s so fixated in his private practice. “Not one-two-three-four.”  
  
Sho tries again, and he curses when he misses the cue after the counting.  
  
He never gets this bit right.  
  
“Like this,” Matsumoto says, then of course he manages to execute the steps perfectly, all flexible limbs at the right timing. “Count slowly.”  
  
“I’m trying, you know?” Sho says, then he sighs, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”  
  
Matsumoto says nothing, but when Sho expects him to leave, he doesn’t. Instead Matsumoto stands behind him, placing both of his hands on Sho’s hips.  
  
Sho’s rooted to his spot, heart hammering from exertion and something else he can’t quite define.  
  
“Count with me,” Matsumoto whispers since they’re close enough, and Sho does.  
  
Ohno’s teaching methods are different; Ohno is the type who snaps his fingers and dances on Sho’s side until Sho gets it right. Matsumoto, Sho realizes, is the kind of teacher who guides Sho into place, his voice coaxing and gentle as he makes corrections to Sho’s counting. Sho’s clumsier than ever on account of his teacher being not Ohno, but Matsumoto is patient, waving off Sho’s apologies for stepping on his foot multiple times.  
  
This is the closest they’ve been since the fireworks display. Like that one, Matsumoto is behind him and Sho can’t see his face. But unlike the last time, Sho wants to. He wants to see the concentration in Matsumoto’s eyes, on how he’s able to memorize a choreography that’s not even for him. He’s supposed to dance something else, another set since Ohno designated him as a backup.  
  
“You don’t dance this part,” Sho says as they move. He’s becoming used to it, little by little.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why do you know it?”  
  
“Because I was watching you the entire time.”  
  
Sho shuts his eyes briefly. Don’t say that, he wants to scream at Matsumoto. Stop saying things like that.  
  
Sho shifts his focus on the steps. Matsumoto didn’t mean it like that. He’s exacting and demanding, which means he was just looking out for the mistakes Sho was bound to make. The more misses, the more frustrated Sho becomes. And if he’s frustrated, he might forget his part and not play along, give them both away.  
  
Matsumoto doesn’t mean it like that, Sho convinces himself.  
  
Matsumoto’s hands push further and pull back, and they go at it for minutes until Sho finally gets the hang of it, moving on his own and counting in his head. He doesn’t miss the cue this time and continues onto the next batch of moves until he finishes the part.  
  
“Again,” Matsumoto instructs, but his hands fall away.  
  
Instinct takes over and Sho reaches for Matsumoto’s hands before they completely drop to his sides, placing them back on his hips.  
  
“Guide me,” he says, keeping his eyes forward.  
  
“You can do it on your own now, I think,” Matsumoto tells him, but there’s something in his voice and he doesn’t move, just lets Sho’s hands cover his own right on top of Sho’s hipbones.  
  
“Probably,” Sho acknowledges and squeezes a bit. “Guide me anyway.”  
  
For a moment, neither of them move.  
  
Then Sho hears Matsumoto suck in a breath.  
  
“One, two,” he starts.  
  
And Sho counts the rest with him, the two of them moving as one.  
  
\--  
  
The rest of the practice proceeds with the same difficulties, but every time Sho falls behind, he heads to the kitchen and only has to wait for a few moments until Matsumoto follows after him. Because he’s Sho’s personal teacher, Sho adapts to his brusque methods while cherishing whatever little time they have left together.  
  
Because once they’re back in their room, the pretense disappears.  
  
They’re having another break when Ohno throws an arm around Sho, pulling him close.  
  
“You’re doing so well, Sho-kun,” Ohno says, giving him that happy smile that makes his eyes smaller. “Way better when we were teenagers and all you could do so perfectly was shaking your butt.”  
  
“I’m just trying not to hold you back,” Sho reasons.  
  
“He’s helping you out? Matsujun?” Ohno gestures with his chin, and Sho sees Matsumoto doing stretches in the living room, legs spread as he twists his trunk left and right. “He’s very flexible. Aiba-chan kept cracking dirty jokes behind your back.”  
  
Sho rolls his eyes, unsurprised. “Yeah, he’s been helping out,” he says to answer Ohno’s question.  
  
Ohno chuckles. “And here we thought you guys were making out in Aiba-chan’s kitchen every time you two sneak off.”  
  
Sho elbows Ohno on the side, sending Ohno to another fit of giggles. “We wouldn’t.”  
  
“Last Friday says otherwise, but okay.”  
  
“Was I really that embarrassing?”  
  
“No. You were a good sport. I had a lot of fun that night and you were one of the reasons why.” Ohno squeezes his shoulder. “I’m grateful. It’s become one of my most treasured memories, you see.”  
  
“And not just because you guys totally have a video of me lying on that countertop, right?” Sho asks with a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
Ohno smiles. “Nino loved that video.”  
  
“Of course he did. He’s been sending me winking emojis since then.”  
  
Ohno laughs. “Ah, I wish Nino was here.”  
  
“We all do,” Sho tells him.  
  
Ohno gives his shoulder another squeeze. “Ready for another set?”  
  
“Your wedding, your pace,” Sho says.  
  
With that, Ohno leads them to the chorus, snapping his fingers to the beat. Sho follows as best as he can, and when Ohno says their group can rest, he takes a seat on the couch. Aiba immediately plops beside him.  
  
Matsumoto’s group remain as per Ohno’s instructions, and as soon as the music starts, they dance.  
  
Or at least Matsumoto does, because he’s the only one Sho can see at the moment. He always danced in front of the guy, never having the opportunity to see the man move behind him. The steps are almost the same, but those hips…  
  
“Don’t drool now,” Aiba jokes beside him, one finger going under his chin to push his mouth close. Sho didn’t even realize his jaw was hanging open. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen him dance before.”  
  
“Because I’ve never,” Sho says unwittingly, then he backtracks. “I mean, not recently.”  
  
“Pretty sure Oh-chan never gave the instruction for our hips to jut out like _that_ ,” Aiba says with a grin.  
  
“You’re not helping,” Sho complains.  
  
“You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?” Aiba laughs and pats his thigh. “He’s actually good.”  
  
Too good, Sho thinks. Or maybe he’s biased because Matsumoto can clearly dance. Nowhere as nimble as Ohno, but he can execute the moves in the correct timing. Not too mention he’s attractive and—okay, Sho will admit—really hot, with those sturdy-looking shoulders, slim waist, thick thighs…  
  
“Wait until you get to your room, okay?” Aiba says with a laugh.  
  
Sho sighs.  
  
He’s doomed.  
  
\--  
  
After five hours of grueling practice (Ohno was relentless), Sho returns to his hotel room with Matsumoto and expresses his desires to soak in a hot tub to loosen the ache currently present in his muscles and joints.  
  
Matsumoto says nothing, and Sho heads off to the bathroom.  
  
So they’re back to not talking much since they’re in this room.  
  
Sho ignores the pang of disappointment in his gut. He gets the water running and sheds off his clothes, folding them neatly as he waits for the tub to fill.  
  
He can’t help letting out a happy sigh when he finally enters the tub, stretching his legs, back, and neck. The water is lukewarm and perfect, and Sho rests his eyes only for a moment.  
  
He’s about to eat this large stuffed clam when he hears someone call his name, and he feels himself getting jerked awake.  
  
When he opens his eyes, it takes a while to focus because it’s too bright. But there’s someone in front of him, repeatedly calling him “Sho-san”, a warm hand on his shoulder.  
  
Sho’s focus returns, and he manages a smile despite being half-awake.  
  
“Jun.”  
  
The hand shaking him freezes, and Sho just stares, blinking and wondering.  
  
Then his coherence comes back, and he sees Matsumoto kneeling beside the tub, halfway into shaking him awake.  
  
“You never called me that before,” Matsumoto mumbles.  
  
“What?” Sho asks, uncertain if he heard it right.  
  
Matsumoto suddenly withdraws his hand and stands. “I thought you drowned in here or something. It’s been two hours, Sho-san. I kept knocking but you weren’t answering, so I used the keycard. I didn’t mean to intrude.”  
  
Sho sits up groggily, running a hand down his wet mane. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry for scaring you.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Matsumoto says, already spinning on his heel. “I’m glad you’re all right.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Sho says again. “About earlier.”  
  
That makes Matsumoto look at him, but Sho turns his head away. “Didn’t mean to call you that.”  
  
“You’re sorry,” Matsumoto says slowly, “for saying my name?”  
  
Sho exhales. “Yes. It wasn’t what we agreed on. That wasn’t the arrangement.”  
  
Something close to a scoff escapes from Matsumoto, but it’s followed by a disbelieving laugh. “The arrangement. Of course.” He makes his way to the door without looking back. “I’m sorry for panicking. It won’t happen again.”  
  
The door slams shut, and Sho brings his knees to his chest, tucking his chin between them.  
  
Everything always turns for the worse once they’re back here. They’d laugh and flirt in front of others, but in here, there’s always something that happens which ruins the illusion, reminds Sho of how things really are between them.  
  
He hates it. He hates that he can’t blame anyone but himself for being in this situation. He shouldn’t have listened to Nino. Shouldn’t have registered on that website, shouldn’t have booked someone like Matsumoto Jun. He should’ve just come to Hawaii alone, accepted all the jokes and jabs aimed at his bachelorhood.  
  
He was so preoccupied with not drawing attention to himself that he miscalculated. He didn’t expect for this arrangement to be this hard. It’s bad enough that he’s lying to Ohno, Haru, Aiba, Shihori, and the others.  
  
Did he have to lie to himself too?  
  
Sho thinks about the last time he’s been attracted to someone and tries to recall if it was this hard. And it was, he realizes, because being attracted to the same sex brings that. He’s never had it easy, and he considers himself stupid for thinking this would be different.  
  
How can it be when things seem to have gone in reverse without his knowledge? The arrangement was for him to pretend when he’s out of this room, to act like he’s attracted to Matsumoto and to imply that there is intimacy behind closed doors. When he’s back in here, in 703, he’s supposed to act normally.  
  
But now, it’s like he’s acting normally when he’s outside the room and suppressing himself once he’s back inside. It’s nothing different from how he is in social gatherings. Sho hides who he is from most people; only the people dear to him know of his preferences. It’s something that will never affect his job, anyway.  
  
With Matsumoto in the picture, everything just became more difficult. Sho has to hold himself back once they’re back in this room, afraid that he’ll do something rash again like that night of Ohno’s bachelor party. If his advances were wanted and welcomed, wouldn’t there be proof of it? There was nothing on Sho’s person—no mark, no scratch, not even a phantom feeling of reciprocation anywhere on his skin.  
  
He wonders how long he can keep this up. It’s affecting him and it’s evidently affecting Matsumoto, too. They hardly talk when they’re in here. Matsumoto seems keen to stay away from him, and Sho’s certain he’d either be watching the TV or be preoccupied on his phone once Sho enters the bedroom. Anything to hold his attention while Sho’s in the same room so they don’t have to say a word to each other.  
  
Maybe Matsumoto’s getting tired too. All that acting, pretending he cares when he’s only doing it because he’s being paid to—that has to take a toll on someone. Perhaps he’s just better at hiding it compared to Sho.  
  
Sho hides his face in his arms and hugs his knees closer in an attempt to be as small as possible.  
  
He shouldn’t have listened to Nino.  
  
\--  
  
Practice takes up the next few days of Sho’s stay in Hawaii, and he and Matsumoto seemed to have developed a routine for it. They’d practice from midday till early evening, keep up with the pretense since it’s what they had agreed on.  
  
One time, Matsumoto helps Sho wipe his sweat in front of everyone else, a towel in his hand which he runs through Sho’s hair.  
  
Since they’re close, Sho manages to whisper, “I can do it myself.”  
  
“I know,” Matsumoto whispers back, his lips hardly moving. “But public displays like this make people look away.”  
  
Sho looks over Matsumoto’s shoulder and meets Ohno’s eyes before Ohno smiles and politely looks the other way.  
  
“The more we do this, the more they get used to it. The more they stop looking at us and mind their own business,” Matsumoto says, and Sho hates how practiced it sounds. He chooses to say nothing, instead twisting his own towel in his hands.  
  
Matsumoto’s choices of PDA are mild. Fingers brushing Sho’s, an arm wrapped possessively around Sho’s shoulders when they’re on Aiba’s couch and listening to Ohno enumerate the parts they ought to polish, a hand resting on Sho’s thigh sometimes. They’re supposed to be normal given the setup, but every time Matsumoto’s hand and that obnoxious ring he’s wearing touches Sho’s skin, it drives Sho crazy.  
  
Because it’s _so_ casual. The way Matsumoto just goes for it without warning highlights his experience in such things, and Sho feels he’s getting left behind. If they’re found out, it’d be because of him.  
  
On the final day of practice, two days before the wedding, that’s when Sho decides to be bolder. In his defense, he does it as a thank you, nothing too different from that dinner they had on their second day in Hawaii.  
  
They’re on the last few beats of the routine, and when the music stops, Ohno declares that he’s expecting them to perform in top shape during the wedding and thanks them for their cooperation.  
  
They all clap, and some even let out cheers of relief. Ohno asks for a group hug and they all oblige, and when Sho’s side is pressed close to Matsumoto’s, that’s when he does it.  
  
A kiss on the cheek.  
  
Sho doesn’t miss Matsumoto’s brown eyes widening, heat creeping up to his cheeks. He looks at Sho disbelievingly, and in that moment, seeing him so shocked and bewildered with his cheekbones tinged with pink, Sho wants to kiss him.  
  
Properly, at that.  
  
But he refrains. The group hug is over, and Ohno dismisses them with a wave and a reminder that “Nobody breathes a word to Haru or I’m not paying for your return flight!” which earns a laugh from all of them.  
  
Well, almost all of them. Matsumoto’s not laughing, still looking at Sho like Sho’s not real.  
  
Sho gives Matsumoto a questioning look, something the man dismisses with a shake of his head. Ohno invites them all for celebratory drinks after they get changed, and Sho promises to be there after he takes a bath to get rid of the sweaty and sticky feeling.  
  
Matsumoto doesn’t say anything on the way back to their room.  
  
When Sho’s done with a quick shower and all dressed, it’s then Matsumoto speaks up.  
  
“I won’t be drinking. Please send my apologies to Ohno-san.”  
  
Sho inclines his head and frowns. “You okay?”  
  
“Yes.” Matsumoto closes his book—a novel he purchased in one of his shopping trips—and gathers his things as he heads for the bathroom. “I just don’t feel like going out anymore.”  
  
“What do you want me to tell them?”  
  
“Exhaustion from practice or anything close. Up to you.”  
  
“Okay,” Sho says with a nod, and Matsumoto walks past him. “Matsumoto-san?”  
  
Matsumoto looks over his shoulder just before he manages to cross the bathroom threshold.  
  
“Do you want anything? I could grab something to eat if you want. Or if there’s anything you need—”  
  
“I’m fine, Sho-san.” Matsumoto tilts his head briefly. “Thank you.”  
  
Sho treats that as a dismissal, leaving for the hotel bar which is just somewhere in the ground floor of the hotel. He doesn’t have the luxury of getting drunk so he decides to not entertain any wild ideas of imbibing too much liquor. He doesn’t want a repeat of Ohno’s bachelor party.  
  
He’s perhaps in his fourth or fifth bottle of beer and in the middle of laughing at Aiba’s tale about this Filipino egg delicacy when his phone beeps.  
  
When he checks, it’s a message of Nino, and the content makes him frown, his earlier delight at Aiba’s disgust vanishing on the spot.  
  
 _What did you do? Jun-kun texted me, saying he shouldn’t have accepted the job from me. What happened?_  
  
Sho feels sick all of a sudden, his chest constricting and making him very uncomfortable.  
  
“Sho-chan,” Aiba says, peering up at him. “What’s wrong? You all right?”  
  
“I have to go,” Sho says, grabbing his jacket and getting off the stool.  
  
“Something came up? Was that Matsujun?” Ohno asks from Sho’s left, lips twitching to gesture at Sho’s phone.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Sho says, dismissing their concerns. “Thanks for the beer, Satoshi-kun. I’ll see you.”  
  
Ohno opens his arms in a hug and Sho embraces him briefly. Aiba gives him a hug too, waving as Sho makes his way back.  
  
He presses the buzzer with force and ignores the funny feeling in his stomach when Matsumoto opens the door. There are two ice packs on either sides of his head, held together by a pink cloth. He’s wearing a bathrobe and he greets Sho with a “welcome back” that only makes Sho feel worse.  
  
Sho pushes past him and deposits his jacket on the couch before taking a seat.  
  
“You’re back early,” Matsumoto says, and Sho can only take so much.  
  
He holds up his hand.  
  
“I have something to say. I’ll appreciate it if you’re going to let me talk first, say everything I have to say before you say anything.”  
  
“I understand,” Matsumoto says, voice turning serious. He’s switched to keigo too, and Sho takes a deep breath.  
  
“I’m calling it off,” he says, breathing hard. “Everything. The arrangement, whatever it is we agreed on, I’m cancelling it. On the way here, I already paid for the half I owe you. If you check your account, all the money should be there. I paid for the remaining balance, Matsumoto-san, according to the original calculations. You don’t have to compute for the hours you had for yourself; consider it as a tip for your excellent services.”  
  
Matsumoto stares at him, his expression confused and hurt. Perhaps Sho wounded his pride as an escort. “May I know why?” he asks, voice trembling.  
  
“I got a text,” Sho says, shrugging his shoulders. “From Nino. Asking me what I did. What made you say what you said.”  
  
Matsumoto opens his mouth, but Sho holds up his hand.  
  
“Please. You don’t have to explain.” Don’t make it worse, Sho thinks. He already feels awful, and all he wants after this is to never see Matsumoto Jun’s face again. “I’m sorry for what I did earlier. I was just trying to play along. I guess I got carried away. I’m also sorry for making things uncomfortable between us, for making advances towards you. But it won’t happen again; I assure you this time.”  
  
Sho stands and grabs his jacket, heading for the closet. “You can have the room.”  
  
He tries to walk past Matsumoto but the man grabs his wrist to stop him.  
  
“You won’t even let me talk?” Matsumoto asks, his grip tight and unrelenting.  
  
What’s there to say? To Sho, this man before him likely finds his touch to be repulsive, only bearing with it because of the money. But there’s no money involved now; Sho already paid for everything.  
  
“Your message to Nino said everything I needed to know, Matsumoto-san. I don’t think there’s anything else you can say.”  
  
Matsumoto tries to say something, but Sho speaks over him, raising his voice a little.  
  
“And frankly, I don’t want to hear anything else that you have to say.”  
  
Matsumoto’s grip on him loosens, and Sho steps back to bow.  
  
“I’ve been in your care all this time. Thank you for your hard work.”  
  
With that, Sho spins on his heel and moves quickly, grabbing his bags. He works on muscle memory, not really committing to memory what he’s doing, and he’s out in the corridor before he knows it. He heads to Aiba’s room without really thinking; all he wants is to get as far from 703 as soon as possible.  
  
It’s Shihori who opens the door, a surprised “Sho-san!” escaping from her. She eyes his luggage and immediately swings the door open before Sho can even ask if he can stay.  
  
“Sho-chan!” Aiba says, appearing from the bedroom. He’s in his I LOVE CHIBA t-shirt, a nostalgic sight for Sho that makes him smile a bit. “Sho-chan, what happened? Where’s Matsujun?”  
  
“I’ll go make coffee,” Shihori says, guiding Sho to the kitchen island. “Masaki, don’t just stand there.”  
  
Aiba moves, immediately taking the seat beside Sho. He waits, watching Sho with concern in his eyes.  
  
Sho knows he can tell Aiba everything. Aiba is the person he goes to when he doesn’t need answers; Aiba simply listens and makes someone feel they’re not alone.  
  
It’s what Sho needs right now.  
  
A mug of coffee is pressed into Sho’s hands, just as Shihori and Aiba exchange a look.  
  
“It’s fine,” Shihori says, smiling. “I can room with the other bridesmaids. If you guys have something to talk about, I can sleep somewhere else.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Sho says immediately. “You don’t have to go, Shihori-chan. It’s just that…”  
  
“Shh,” Shihori says, shaking her head. “It’s okay. Let this idiot take care of you.” She points to Aiba. “I’ll leave the iPad since it’s charging and will be back for it tomorrow. In the meantime, don’t you dare touch the Mario Run in there.”  
  
Aiba gives her a salute. Shihori rounds the kitchen island and gives Sho a tight hug, something he returns albeit weakly.  
  
“Now I’ll go get my stuff and leave you boys talking,” she says, but not before sharing a quick kiss with Aiba.  
  
Sho waits until Shihori’s out of the room before he tells Aiba the truth.  
  
“I called it off as soon as I got back from the bar,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn’t react to the sensation of his tongue burning.  
  
“Called what off? Sho-chan, what are you talking about?”  
  
Sho inhales deep and holds it for as long as he can before he lets it all out. “The first thing you have to know is that I don’t really have a boyfriend.”  
  
Aiba’s eyes widen, and Sho just nods. Now that it’s out, he can’t stop talking. “Matsumoto Jun is a paid escort, an acquaintance and friend of Nino’s. Nino suggested him to me when I was worrying over being the butt of the jokes in this entire event. I know most of Satoshi-kun’s colleagues and friends. I’m older than most of them. And I had a feeling I knew what they were going to say.”  
  
He sighs. “So Nino suggested I pretend that I have someone. I met him then.”  
  
“So everything— everything these past few days—”  
  
“That was all an act.” Sho bows his head. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”  
  
“Does Oh-chan know?”  
  
“Not yet, but I’m going to tell him. He deserves to know.”  
  
Aiba leans back, letting out a swift exhale. “I thought you guys were really together. You acted like it.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sho says, letting the mug of coffee transfer its warmth to his hands. “But that’s all there is to it. Acting. He’s a professional, you see. An escort for VIPs. I wouldn’t have been able to book him if Nino didn’t play a part.”  
  
Silence falls between him and Aiba, and Sho just focuses on his coffee.  
  
“You said you called it off,” Aiba prompts.  
  
“I did. I paid for his services in full as I rode the elevator back up.”  
  
“Why?” Aiba faces him, studying his face. “Was there any breach of contract or anything? Was he posting about you online and saying mean stuff?”  
  
“No,” Sho says, shaking his head fiercely. “No. He would never.”  
  
“Then why? Matsujun seemed like a nice guy; he was kind enough to help me throughout practice, you know. Why did you call it off?”  
  
Instead of responding, Sho pulls out his phone from his pocket and shows Aiba the text he got from Nino.  
  
Aiba returns the phone after a brief moment. “Did anything happen that would warrant him to say such a thing?”  
  
“I kissed him,” Sho says, shutting his eyes. “After practice, as we did the group hug. On the cheek.”  
  
“We all saw that,” Aiba tells him. “I thought it was sweet.”  
  
“Well, he didn’t think the same,” Sho says, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.  
  
“Are you sure?” Aiba swings his legs to face him, looking at him in all seriousness now. “Sho-chan, are you absolutely sure?”  
  
Why wouldn’t Sho be? What else could that text mean?  
  
Aiba just needs context.  
  
“After the bachelor party,” Sho begins, and Aiba nods in encouragement.  
  
“Yeah, when Matsujun took you home with only a ‘we’re going, congratulations on your marriage’ for a goodbye?”  
  
“That,” Sho says. “I don’t have a lot of memories about that night. But if you noticed, he kept wearing turtlenecks after that.”  
  
Aiba smiles. “I’m not five years old, Sho-chan. I knew he was hiding something because something must have happened.”  
  
“I left him with...well, you know what. We talked about it the following day, but he never reciprocated, you know? I felt awful and ashamed for my behavior.” Sho hides half of his face behind the coffee mug. “I was paying him, yes. But not for that. And he never returned any of the advances I made that night, so what could that mean?”  
  
“That was five days ago though,” Aiba points out. “The bachelor party, I mean. And Shihori saw you at the fireworks display. You were spooning.”  
  
“Since the bachelor party, every time we returned to our room, we wouldn’t speak to each other unless it was necessary.” Sho has no idea how a laugh escapes from him. “It was maddening. That night made things more awkward between us, and it was my fault.”  
  
“Oh Sho-chan,” Aiba says with a sad smile and a perceptive look in his eyes, “you really liked him, didn’t you?”  
  
Sho doesn’t answer, staring at the dregs on the bottom of his coffee mug.  
  
Aiba remains silent for the next minute, then he places a hand on Sho’s shoulder.  
  
“What do you need, Sho-chan? Tell me.”  
  
“I want to go home,” Sho says sincerely, “and forget that this all happened. Forget that I met him. That I like…” He lets out a breath through clenched teeth. “I just want all of this to be over.”  
  
“Only a day to go,” Aiba reminds him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “Only a day to go, Sho-chan. You’re not alone, okay? I’m here.”  
  
“I know,” Sho says, and he feels immensely grateful.


	4. Chapter 4

When Jun gets to his senses, the hotel bar is the first place he goes to.  
  
He doesn’t find Sho but sees Ohno, who acknowledges him with a nod and a tilt of his head towards the vacant seat beside him.  
  
Jun accepts; it’s late and he has no idea where Sho might be.  
  
Ohno calls for the bartender and orders for Jun. When the drink arrives, Ohno gestures wordlessly for Jun to drink.  
  
Jun does, focusing on the burn rather than what he feels inside.  
  
“You looked like you needed that,” Ohno says, his glass of scotch resting right over his lips.  
  
“Ohno-san,” Jun says, and Ohno turns to him, “I’m looking for Sho-san. Have you—”  
  
“No need for that now, Matsujun,” Ohno says, cutting him off. “Sho-kun told me the truth. He called a while ago, just before you came here, actually.”  
  
The drop in his stomach only adds to how terrible he feels. “I’m terribly sorry for lying to you.”  
  
“He said not to blame you, that it was his idea and proposal in the first place. With the help of Nino, but he shouldered all the responsibility. Typical Sho-kun.” Ohno asks the bartender for another round and does the same for Jun. “He said you’re a professional.”  
  
“I’m not. He always says that, but I’m not. I’m just an escort. It’s a job like any other.”  
  
“Well, you’ve been very convincing in doing your job,” Ohno tells him, twirling his glass in hand and letting the ice cubes hit the sides of it. “Totally fooled me. Especially when you did the body shots.” Ohno gives him a look. “Did I unknowingly force you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with?”  
  
“No.” Jun shakes his head firmly. “It was your party, Ohno-san. And I’m not the type to be coerced into doing something I dislike.”  
  
“So you liked it?” Ohno says, the corner of his lips quirking when Jun freezes. “Nino often says I’m stupid and oblivious. I like to believe I’m not. I just don’t talk about my observations, unlike Nino.”  
  
Ohno takes a sip of his drink. “Sho-kun sounded upset when he called earlier. He didn’t give me details, just that he ended your arrangement because of something you said.” Ohno’s eyes narrow at him. “Did you hurt my friend, Matsumoto-san?”  
  
“He didn’t even let me talk,” Jun says, eyes sliding shut. “He didn’t let me explain. He cancelled it, paid for it, and he left. He said he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say.” Jun tried calling, but all of his attempts were rejected without so much as a ring.  
  
“Sho-kun normally doesn’t say such things unless he’s been truly hurt. So I’m going to ask again,” Ohno says, facing him properly. “And please answer this time. Did you hurt him? What did you do?”  
  
There’s no point in cowering, and Ohno is using this commanding tone that Jun hasn’t heard since their dance rehearsals.  
  
“There’s been a lot of misunderstanding,” Jun begins, and Ohno just waves his hand.  
  
“I’ve got time.”  
  
So Jun tells Ohno about the text he sent to Nino, on how Sho interpreted it without even asking for clarifications.  
  
“Did you hate this job so much that you said those things?” is what Ohno asks him next.  
  
It surprises Jun; it sounds too similar to what he asked Sho before, the morning after Ohno’s bachelor party.  
  
“That wasn’t—” Jun tries, then he sighs, frustrated. “That wasn’t what I meant by that.”  
  
“That was what Sho-kun thought. And I can’t blame him. It’s hard to tell from just looking at your face, you know? You’ve got this...strong face.” Ohno gestures vaguely. “It gives off a strong impression as well.”  
  
“I’m aware,” Jun says. It’s always been like that. He often gets misinterpreted because his features say otherwise. “I didn’t hate the job. But I hate what it has done.”  
  
Jun wonders if he’s breaching some sort of confidentiality agreement with what he’s about to say. But he owes Ohno Satoshi the truth; the man has been nothing but gracious and accepting of him. Jun felt bad for deceiving him, and he finds that he can’t do it any longer.  
  
“I know what he thinks,” Jun starts, and Ohno’s simply watching him now. “Sho-san thinks I said it because I regret accepting the job. He’s not wrong, but he’s also not correct. We spent a week and a couple of days acting like we’re together. I thought it was easy; it wasn’t something I haven’t done before. But this is the first time I’ve done it this long and with someone like…”  
  
He trails off, takes a sip of his drink.  
  
“Someone like Sho-kun?” Ohno supplements, and he sounds like he understands. “I know how he can be. He’s a very stubborn person.”  
  
“And a lame one too,” Jun says, a soft laugh escaping from him. “He wears bucket hats like a tourist in his fifties, he has nothing but camouflage-patterned clothes, he has _fake denims_ that he’s proud of, he wears his backpack on the front like some dad in their kid’s school trip. He cries about penguin documentaries. He snores too, and he gets cramps when he shouldn’t have.”  
  
Ohno says nothing for a while, but when he picks up his drink again, Jun catches the hints of a smile. “Any other time, I would think you’re complaining. But I don’t believe you are.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have accepted this job from Nino,” Jun says, finishing the rest of his drink. Ohno wordlessly orders another for him from the bartender. “I thought it’d be easy. And at first, it was. It was fun to see Sho-san so flustered when I did something as simple as holding his hand.”  
  
Jun can sense Ohno staring at him, and he waits.  
  
“You like him,” Ohno murmurs.  
  
Jun finds that he can’t deny it.  
  
“I got selfish, Ohno-san,” Jun admits. “I knew we were just acting, but in the end, I got selfish. Even when he told me he hated it and it’s the worst. I couldn’t help it.”  
  
Ohno blinks at him. “Sho-kun said that?”  
  
“The morning after your party,” Jun affirms with a nod.  
  
Ohno is frowning now. “He said that but...Shihori-chan said you were spooning at the fireworks display.”  
  
Jun almost laughs at the word choice. “I did that out of selfishness. I’ve been told once that I’m an opportunist. I guess that was me taking advantage of the situation. I thought it would end, anyway. After the wedding, it would end. That was the time limit. But until then, I told myself I’d do what I can to show him otherwise.”  
  
The condensation from his drink has transferred to his palm, and Jun grips the glass tightly. “In the end, none of it worked.”  
  
Sho probably hates him now and wouldn’t want to see him again. Jun can’t blame him for that. He overstepped his boundaries.  
  
But Sho’s unfair too, and Jun hates him for it. For someone who said he hates it and it’s the worst, why did he kiss Jun, then? Why did he say Jun’s name and smiled like that when Jun had woken him up in the tub?  
  
Why did he make Jun feel so wanted and desired when they got back in the hotel after that body shots dare?  
  
It frustrates Jun so much; he can’t tell what Sho was thinking. He was never given the chance to explain or to ask—Sho walked out of the door just like that. And when Jun tried to find him, he won’t let himself be found. He severed all connections with Jun, paying for Jun’s fees in full and saying things like it’s nothing but an arrangement, that he doesn’t want to hear anything Jun has to say.  
  
He made Jun regret the arrangement. Because Jun would have loved to have met Sakurai Sho in different circumstances, one that doesn’t require them to fake things in order to maintain an appearance. To be close to Sho and know that it’s real, that it’s because Sho wants him there.  
  
“If you need me to disappear, just say it,” Jun says to Ohno. “I’ve lied to you, to Haru-san, to everyone else. I’ve hurt Sho-san. I’ve done enough damage, I think.”  
  
Ohno raises an eyebrow. “I’ll be frank with you, Matsujun, I was seriously considering that. But then I got to hear what you had to say, and I thought of something better.”  
  
Jun faces Ohno, and the man flashes him a smile.  
  
“Haru would like to see you tomorrow morning at the event hall, at eight in the morning.” Ohno stands and pays for their drinks. “Don’t be late. She won’t forgive you.”  
  
Jun finds himself nodding uncertainly, watching Ohno’s back as he departs.  
  
\--  
  
Ohno Satoshi’s plan for Jun is simple: he is now Haru’s new errand boy.  
  
“I heard about it from Satoshi,” Haru said when Jun showed up on time. “But he loves Sho-san dearly, so I think this is him trying to punish you.” Her smile disappeared. “Now I hate to impose, Matsumoto-san, but since you’re here already…”  
  
And that began Jun’s task of driving to the other side of Honolulu to clarify the details of the cake frosting since the shop wasn’t answering any of Haru’s calls.  
  
Jun had to use a mobile translator to explain the situation to the shop attendant, and the language barrier certainly made the process twice as taxing had Ohno and Haru ordered from a Japanese sweets shop or had the hotel make it.  
  
When he returns and reports to Haru that the shop gave him an apology and promised they’d have it ready on the day itself according the specifications, Haru leads him to where her bridesmaids have gathered, and Jun locks eyes with Shihori.  
  
“Shihori-chan tells me she needs a driver to take her to the seamstress,” Haru says, flashing Jun a smile. “I’ll leave her in your care, Matsumoto-san.”  
  
Before Jun can give a nod of agreement, Haru scurries away along with her bridesmaids, telling them she has treats she wants to them to sample before the wedding.  
  
“I’ve heard about it from Masaki,” Shihori says, and Jun turns to her. “His version sounded more dramatic, but I suppose you can tell me about it on the way.”  
  
Shihori surprises him by linking her arm with his as they make the trip to the carpark. Jun thought she hates him for what happened.  
  
“If you’re wondering where Sho-san is, I believe he’s having a relaxing body massage courtesy of Masaki’s free coupons from spending his money in this hotel’s casino,” Shihori says. “Now, shall we?”  
  
They’re on the main road and waiting for the traffic lights when Shihori downright asks.  
  
“So do you like Sho-san?”  
  
Jun wills himself not to react. Shihori has been Aiba’s girlfriend for years. Of course she’s as straightforward as him, cutting right to the chase.  
  
“I think my actions already speak for themselves,” Jun says anyway, not wanting to give a direct answer.  
  
“Masaki told me you’re a high-class escort, a friend of Nino’s.” Jun sees Shihori shaking her head in his periphery. “I’m not even surprised that Nino knows someone like that. But yeah, Masaki said you’re a professional, so I don’t know if you were just acting or what.”  
  
“It was acting,” Jun says, keeping his eyes on the road. “At first.”  
  
Shihori sighs, leaning against the backrest. “You need to talk to Sho-san.”  
  
“I tried. He said he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. He rejected all my calls.”  
  
To Jun’s surprise, Shihori laughs, like she’s been truly tickled by what he just said.  
  
“No wonder you like him,” Shihori says when she recovers, waving her hands. “You’re just like him. You’re as stubborn as him.” She lets out a breath. “You guys sure fooled us with that arrangement, but now that I know not all of it is a lie, I know you have to talk to him, Matsumoto-san.”  
  
“How?” Jun says, frustration seeping in his tone. “He wouldn’t listen. I tried to call him this morning. I got rejected on the first ring.”  
  
Shihori smiles, and it reminds Jun of Aiba’s knowing grins.  
  
“If that is the case, Matsumoto-san, then I guess you’ll just have to get his attention.”  
  
\--  
  
Jun’s duties changed drastically in a matter of hours. Less than a day ago, he was Ohno and Haru’s guest and Sakurai Sho’s fake boyfriend. Now he’s Haru’s runner and pastries tester, and to make matters worse, Haru entrusts him with looking after the children of some of the guests as they hold a dry-run of the wedding.  
  
Jun likes children. They’re funny and cute, and sometimes, they’re more perceptive than adults. They say the most random things and laugh at nearly everything. They’re easy to please and don’t have high expectations, and they most certainly don’t misinterpret Jun’s words.  
  
Except when Jun’s telling them to quit what they’re doing and they just don’t want to.  
  
One of the kids, Emi-chan, is seven years old and is the oldest of the bunch Jun’s tasked in looking after. She’s also the instigator instead of being the voice of reason, rallying the other children to sneak off with the tarts and shortcakes while the adults are busy rehearsing.  
  
“Don’t touch that,” Jun hisses, pointing to one snotty kid who’s about to take the strawberry topping from one shortcake. The kid is acting on a dare, and all the other children are watching him. “Don’t touch that, Ren-kun, or so help me—”  
  
Ren-kun takes off with the strawberry, waving it above his head like a prize.  
  
Jun sighs. The little girl on his lap, Maya-chan, pokes his cheek.  
  
“Jun-san, why aren’t you practicing with them?”  
  
Jun looks at her. She’s got two pigtails on because she’s imitating some American comic book supervillain who swings a baseball bat. She actually asked Jun to go find a bat for her, and it took a while to convince her to divert her attention elsewhere.  
  
“I’m watching over you guys,” Jun says as an explanation. “You’re the only one who actually listens to me, Maya-chan.”  
  
The kid who took the strawberry makes a show of eating it, smearing the juice on his jeans. Jun pretends not to see a thing.  
  
“Maybe you’re not an adult,” Maya tells him, and Jun almost frowns at her. But he remembers how he looks like so he steels his facial expression to curiosity. “Maybe that’s why you can’t join them.”  
  
Of all the insults Jun has received in his life, he’s going to give this one a grade of 7 out of 10 for originality and innocence.  
  
“I’m a perfectly functioning adult,” Jun says, though he’s not sure if he is saying it to the kid or to himself. “I’m older than you.”  
  
Jun doesn’t wait for her to respond, instead carries her as he begins chasing after the rest of the kids. It takes him some time, especially when they wrap themselves around his legs and tell him too many things simultaneously, but he eventually manages to have them gather in one corner around him.  
  
Maya remains seated on his lap because she cried when Jun tried to put her down. Jun thinks it might be an act, but he’s too exhausted to do something about it.  
  
“Jun-chan,” the strawberry thief, Ren-kun, addresses him. Jun does a mental count to prevent his eyebrow from quirking.  
  
Jun-chan? Of all honorifics?  
  
“Yes, Ren-kun? What do you need?”  
  
“Do you have a person you like?”  
  
That earns a chorus of “ooooh”s and some of the little girls hiding their faces behind their hands. It also results to a lot of giggling, and Jun eyes the kid on his lap and finds her hiding a smile behind her tiny fists.  
  
Just to play along, Jun nods. “I do.”  
  
The kids shuffle closer to him after that, most of them raising their hands as if he has become their kindergarten teacher, although some of them are too old to be in kindergarten.  
  
Jun sighs and points to one kid whose name he forgot. Better this unprecedented Q &A instead of him going after them as they terrorize one sweets table after another.  
  
“Jun-chan,” the same kid asks, and of course that nickname has caught on, “did you ever kiss the person you like?”  
  
What’s with children and kisses, seriously?  
  
But Jun answers anyway. “Once. Almost.”  
  
Maya faces him with curiosity now. “What happened?”  
  
The worst, Jun thinks, remembering that night. “It didn’t work out.”  
  
The children “awww” at the same time, and Jun becomes surrounded by crestfallen faces. “When you guys grow up, you’re going to learn that some things don’t work out. That’s how it is.”  
  
“Maybe you’re not really an adult,” Maya tells him, and Jun turns his head just in time for her to poke his cheek. “My mama says people shouldn’t give up.”  
  
“My papa said that too!” one kid echoes, and he’s followed by other kids telling Jun that their parents (some even mentioned grandparents) had said the same thing.  
  
Jun raises his hands in surrender when their voices get louder, shooting a wary glance towards the event hall. If they’re too noisy, they might disrupt the rehearsal. That would anger Haru and Jun would be scolded.  
  
“I understand, I get it!” he says over the screaming children. “I’ll try harder, okay? Are you happy?”  
  
“We’ll cheer for you, Jun-chan!” the oldest kid, Emi says, giving him a hug. That seems to be the cue for all the other kids to hug him, and of course, the snotty one has his face pressed right against the front of Jun’s shirt.  
  
Wonderful.  
  
Jun pats little Maya on the head. She threw her arms around his neck and now has her face mashed against his neck.  
  
“I appreciate the support,” he says, sighing.  
  
He’s still being smothered by overenthusiastic and sympathetic children by the time Aiba’s face finally appears from behind the door.  
  
“We’re done with practice,” Aiba says, then he faces the kids. “It’s time to eat!”  
  
They all cheer and took off, leaving Jun to frown at the wet spot on his shirt.  
  
“Matsujun,” Aiba says, and Jun’s attention snaps to him, “Oh-chan wants a final practice. Tonight after this. My room.”  
  
Jun nods, hesitating. But his desire to know wins out. “Will Sho-san be there?”  
  
Aiba gives him a small smile. “I don’t know. He’s been going out lately. He’s not here today, you see.”  
  
Jun did see. The first thing he did when Haru gave him the babysitting task was to look at all of the guests who have gathered. Sho was nowhere to be found.  
  
“I understand,” Jun says. “I’ll be there.”  
  
Aiba’s smile grows wider, tilting his head towards the event hall. “We’ve got shortcakes, come on.”  
  
Jun follows, but he barely socializes. He eats only a portion of his shortcake and gives the rest to this kid who’s been eyeing his plate for a while. Jun even hands over his strawberry, something that made the kid very happy.  
  
After, when they’re in Aiba’s room for rehearsals (Sho is still missing and Jun stomps on the disappointment building up in him) and are polishing some steps, Jun makes up his mind.  
  
Shihori told him to get Sho’s attention. He’s been thinking on how to do that when Sho’s not showing his face, but now Jun has an idea.  
  
He sets up camp in Aiba’s kitchen and grabs his phone, doing an overseas call to his agency’s management.  
  
It takes Jun some time but he’s able to handle the modifications, and the next one he calls is the bank.  
  
Ohno calls for a final rehearsal, and once Jun dances his part, he goes back to the kitchen to take care of the rest. When he receives a confirmation in his email followed by a message from his manager that he’s going to have to pay for everything, he just accepts.  
  
Jun proceeds to draft an email on his way back to 703, opting to use keigo.  
  
_Sakurai Sho-sama,_ he types, knowing this is the only way he can say what he has to say. There’s a chance Sho would send the email to the trash immediately, but this is why Jun made all those overseas calls.  
  
_Your money was refunded to you in full. We’ve had misunderstandings, but I’ve returned the money because in the end, it was no longer a job for me. I can’t accept payment for a job I wasn’t able to do.  
  
I won’t take back what I said. I shouldn’t have accepted the arrangement. And that’s because I would’ve liked it if we’ve met under different circumstances. I would’ve wanted to get to know you truly, and not because it was necessary for us to create a convincing story.  
  
I hope this finds you well. As compensation for my incompetence, my agency computed for the miscellaneous fees that you would have been asked to pay back in Tokyo and cancelled them. The agency would still appreciate any form of feedback, and should you wish to provide one, please don’t hold back.  
  
Thank you for everything until now. These past few days have been fun._  
  
Jun affixes his name at the end and sends it after reading it twice, thrice. He puts his phone on Do not disturb and prepares for bed, knowing that tomorrow is the big day.  
  
Whether he got Sho’s attention or not, only tomorrow will tell.  
  
\--  
  
Naturally, Jun’s task as Haru’s personal assistant doesn’t change even on the wedding day. Haru provided him with an iPad that has the program proper and handed him a Bluetooth earpiece, patting his shoulders and telling him that they’ll do their best today.  
  
As a result, he’s been substituting between an usher and a coordinator, guiding people to their seats and clarifying details with the hotel staff.  
  
As Ohno and Haru exchange vows with a Hawaiian sunset for a background, Jun remains in the sidelines, overlooking their apparent happiness. In the area of the groomsmen sits Sho, who didn’t even look at him when he got into the venue.  
  
Jun knows he should be paying attention to the wedding, but he can’t help looking at Sho even if Sho’s facing the front and Jun can only see his fluffy hair. Sho’s suit looks crisp and new, and he looks dashing in it. His tie seemed a bit crooked when he came in earlier, and Jun wishes he could fix it for him.  
  
In Jun’s ideal scenario, he’d undo and redo Sho’s tie and maybe pull him for a kiss or two because of how he looks. He dwells on it for as long as he can until the wedding planner tells him via the earpiece that it’s time to usher the rest of the guests to the reception area.  
  
The celebration proceeds, and Jun speed-eats with the wedding planner as Ohno makes this tearful speech that Jun can’t help snorting in amusement at.  
  
Then finally, Ohno announces that he has a surprise.  
  
That is Jun’s cue to tell the staff to prepare the music, and he gets in place still with the earpiece on. He discard his jacket and loosens his tie, rolls up his sleeves because that’s what Ohno wanted.  
  
From Jun’s position, Sho is only two steps away. Jun can reach him if he wants to. His hand itches to try, but then the music starts and Jun has to move.  
  
He’s certain the guests are cheering as they get to the hip movements, but Jun has never seen Sho dance this part right in front of him in those slacks, and he _stares_. His eyes seem to naturally gravitate to Sho’s lower half; Sho never showed any remarkable flexibility in all of their rehearsals, and he never danced with full energy when it came to the hip thrusts.  
  
But now…  
  
Jun stares at the back of Sho’s head with eyes narrowed. Sho has to be doing it on purpose. He knows Jun is right behind him, that Jun has the best view of everything he has to show. And he’s got this pert bottom that seems intent on grabbing Jun’s attention.  
  
When Jun’s part is done, he returns to his place in the sidelines and picks up the iPad, going over the final details Haru put in there. They’re just reminders for Jun to check the state of the sweets in case children were sneaking off again, and he does that, not wanting to see any more of Sho’s dancing.  
  
At the end of the surprise number, Jun applauds with everybody else. He locks the iPad and removes the earpiece, knowing there’s nothing else for him to do. He finds the wedding planner and hands her the items, and she thanks him for his help.  
  
Jun only manages a small smile.  
  
A pair of arms wrap around one of Jun’s, and he finds Haru smiling at him.  
  
“Thanks for all your hard work, Matsumoto-san,” she says with a smile that reaches her eyes.  
  
“Congratulations on your marriage,” Jun says, returning her grin. “I wish you happiness. You and Ohno-san.” His head tilts. “Though, you are an Ohno-san as well now, aren’t you?”  
  
She elbows him on his side. “He can always take my last name. Don’t be so traditional.”  
  
Jun raises his hands. “Of course. I believe Ohno-san would gladly do anything you say.”  
  
“As he should.” Haru grabs him by the wrist, her head angled towards the dance floor. “Everyone’s dancing now.”  
  
“I already danced a number with the others, just for you,” Jun reminds her. “And you’re asking me to dance again?”  
  
“Matsumoto-san, I just don’t want to disappoint my bridesmaids. I keep getting questions about you, whether you’re single or not,” she explains, dragging him to the table that’s nearest to the dance floor. Then she leans in to whisper, “I doubt any of them can ask you to dance with them, but please, as a final favor?” She puts her palms together and gives him this look that he knows Ohno is super weak to.  
  
Jun supposes there’s no harm in sitting close to the dance floor. “All right.”  
  
Haru smiles and gives him a parting nod, something he returns. She enters the dance floor with her husband, her arms immediately slinging around his neck. The two of them laugh as the rest of the guests dance around them, obviously lost in their own world.  
  
Jun isn’t aware how long he’s been watching everyone before he feels a tap on his shoulder, and he sighs, schools his features to a polite smile as he faces one of Haru’s bridesmaids.  
  
Only that it’s not one of her bridesmaids.  
  
Jun’s smile vanishes when he finds Sho looking at him.  
  
“Do you dance?” Sho asks. It’s the first time he acknowledged Jun’s presence since that night.  
  
Jun blinks. “I just danced a surprise number with you and the rest of the groomsmen.”  
  
Sho bristles. “Then, will you dance with me?” He offers his hand to Jun.  
  
Make the most of it, Jun thinks bitterly. He accepts and allows himself to be led to the dance floor, though Sho takes them to the other side where it’s mostly hidden by shadows and the seats nearby are vacant.  
  
For a while, they just stare at each other. Then Sho lets go of him and wraps his arms around Jun’s neck loosely, tentatively. Jun’s hands clutch at Sho’s hips, and together they move to the music.  
  
“I read your email,” is what Sho says first.  
  
“I see,” Jun says, keeping his voice even.  
  
“And I have some questions.”  
  
“Shoot,” Jun says, trying to ignore his heart hammering.  
  
“You said you’re not taking back what you said to Nino. That you regret the job. But you also mentioned that you would have preferred to have met me in another way.” Sho bites on his bottom lip uncertainly, and Jun wishes he’d stop doing that. He’s worrying the skin, and it’s hard for Jun to resist when they’re this close after days of not seeing each other. “What did that mean?”  
  
“Sho-san,” Jun says, slightly exasperated, “forgive me for being rude, but are you really that stupid?”  
  
To Jun’s surprise, Sho’s face breaks into a small smile. “I haven’t seen you make that face in what feels like so long.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“When you’re annoyed, your eyebrow twitches and your eyes close briefly,” Sho says, laughing a bit now. “It’s cute.”  
  
Jun can feel warmth climbing to his cheeks. “Is that all you have to say?”  
  
“No. But you didn’t answer my first one.”  
  
“Why should I when you already know the answer?”  
  
Sho studies his face for a moment. “I have one more question, then. But this one isn’t related to the email.”  
  
Jun only gives an acknowledging nod.  
  
“That night,” Sho says, and Jun already knows what he means but he lets Sho continue anyway, “after Satoshi-kun’s party. You took me home after I asked you to.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I’m assuming we made out since I did leave that hickey on you. But did we, really?”  
  
That confuses Jun. “Are you asking me if it happened?”  
  
“No,” Sho says pointedly. “I _know_ it happened. I saw your neck. But did we make out or was I the only one who did the making out? Was I kissing you when you had no intention of kissing back?”  
  
Jun stares at Sho’s face and discovers that he’s serious with his question. “You don’t remember.”  
  
“I don’t remember most of what happened when we got back,” Sho says. “I wish I can.”  
  
“You don’t remember and yet you told me you hated it, that it was the worst?”  
  
“That’s why I’m asking if we did it together or not,” Sho says, eyes hard. “I said what I said because I was under the impression you never reciprocated. Still am, in fact. There was nothing on me, Matsumoto-san. Nothing, not even a scratch that would at least tell me that it wasn’t one-sided.”  
  
Jun sighs. All this because Sho didn’t remember and made assumptions. So much could have been avoided, and yet, he can’t help laughing in relief, biting his lip to reel in his chuckles.  
  
“What’s so funny?” Sho asks warily.  
  
Jun tightens his grip on Sho’s hips and yanks Sho closer to him. “You’re unbelievable.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That night, just when I was about to kiss you, you howled in pain.” Jun quirks an eyebrow at Sho’s eyes widening. “Do you realize how frustrating that was? I was about to go for it, and you get a leg cramp of all things.”  
  
“I got a what?”  
  
Jun gives him a look. “I spent nearly ten minutes massaging the muscles from the back of your knees down to your ankle, my knuckles pressed against your sole, grinding there until you passed out after complaining so much. It wasn’t how I envisioned that night would go, especially not after I licked all that salt off you.”  
  
Sho’s blushing now, his eyes shifty and not really looking at Jun’s face. He’s obviously embarrassed, teeth catching on his bottom lip.  
  
“That’s really what happened?” Sho asks quietly.  
  
“Which one of us was the drunkard who fell asleep on his ass after a leg massage?”  
  
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”  
  
“If you had no idea, you should have told me,” Jun tells him, unable to hide his frustration. “I admit that I was pissed at you for falling asleep, but you should have just asked, Sho-san.”  
  
“So everything we did after the party,” Sho tries, and he sounds so hesitant and unsure, “that was all—?”  
  
Jun is this close to glaring at Sho. “I thought you said you read my email.”  
  
“I did!” Sho insists, and he sounds like he’s frustrated too. “But I’ve been operating on false assumptions for days, Matsumoto-san. I don’t want to add another one to my growing collection.”  
  
Jun chuckles at Sho’s choice of words, shaking his head in amusement. “Ask,” he says patiently.  
  
“The fireworks display,” Sho says, looking hopeful now, “was that—?”  
  
“I wasn’t acting at that time,” Jun says, cutting him off. “And I think I should apologize for that. There was really no need to do that; people were watching the fireworks and not us. But I couldn’t help it.”  
  
Sho smiles, a slow curling of his lips. “You got selfish, then?”  
  
Jun gives a stiff nod.  
  
Sho wraps his arms tighter around his neck, pulling him closer. “I got selfish too, you know. When I kissed you on the cheek.”  
  
That’s something Jun actually deduced.  
  
“Matsumoto-san?”  
  
Jun hums in question.  
  
“When we return to Japan, will you go out with me?”  
  
Sho said all of that in one breath, and it came out rushed and flustered. He looks like someone with a stomach flu, and Jun can’t help teasing him just to see how he’d react.  
  
“As your escort?” he asks with one perfectly raised eyebrow.  
  
Sho’s face goes entirely blank and Jun laughs.  
  
“As my boyfriend.” Sho’s looking right at him. “For real, this time.”  
  
“For real,” Jun repeats, his face breaking into another smile when Sho pouts.  
  
“Is that a yes?” Sho asks, then his voice goes softer. “Please say yes. Or if you don’t want to, please say so and forget my face after so I can crawl under a rock and spend the rest of my days there devoid of human contact, in perpetual isolation and—”  
  
“Sho-san,” Jun says over his rambling, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s been yes since I saw you cry at those emperor penguins.”  
  
They’re not dancing anymore, so Jun remains in place, looking at Sho questioningly.  
  
Then Sho simply draws him closer and Jun bridges the gap, fisting at Sho’s still-crooked tie so he can kiss the pleased smile off Sho’s mouth.  
  
He’s always wanted this—to know how Sho’s lips feel when they’re pressed against his own, to discover for himself how Sho tastes like. He tugs Sho closer to him, their knees knocking. He reaches up, holds Sho’s face in both hands now, smiles against Sho’s mouth every time Sho makes this tiny noise of satisfaction.  
  
They break apart when they can feel eyes on them, and Sho wets his lips in a nervous gesture.  
  
“Don’t turn your head,” Sho warns. “Aiba-chan’s really smiling at me. Satoshi-kun is flashing me a thumbs up, and pretty much everyone here is grinning.”  
  
Jun just laughs, plants a quick peck on the angle of Sho’s lips.  
  
“Want to get out of here?” Jun asks, not bothering to disguise the husk in his voice.  
  
“Take me home,” Sho whispers with an expectant grin.  
  
And Jun does.  
  
\--  
  
As soon as the door of 703 shuts behind them and Jun has the keycard inserted in the slot, Sho’s on him.  
  
Which he doesn’t mind.  
  
Jun meets Sho’s kisses with the same eagerness, hands going behind Sho to cup his ass, finding it as perky as he expected it to be. He smiles against Sho’s lips, unable to hide his satisfaction at his discovery.  
  
The trip to the bed is short, but before Sho manages to push him back, he resists.  
  
Sho pulls away with his head tilted, eyes blinking in confusion.  
  
“I have something to say,” Jun tells him, but he keeps his hands on Sho’s backside.  
  
“Okay,” Sho says, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on Jun’s jaw. “I’m listening.”  
  
Sho’s mouth is an effective distraction, and Jun can’t suppress the pleased sighs he ends up making as Sho’s lips reach his ear.  
  
“I’m not going to quit my job.” He feels Sho halt in his exploration. “I’m not. I’m an escort. I’m going to continue being an escort. I do have to pay the agency for all the problems that I caused when I refunded your money. So I can’t quit. And even if it’s possible, I’m not quitting because I don’t want to. I like what I do.”  
  
Sho draws back, just enough for their eyes to meet.  
  
“I wasn’t going to ask you to quit,” Sho tells him with a tiny smile. “I would never ask that of you. I know how important that job is to you. I can’t say I understand everything that goes on in it, but if you’re happy there, then who am I to ask you to stop doing it?”  
  
Jun schools his features to impassiveness despite wanting to do nothing else but to kiss Sho and to never stop. He’s used to his past relationships asking him to find another job since it takes up a lot of his time and at the most, Jun only gets the weekends free when he asks for it from his manager. He’s accustomed to people looking down on what he does; people have odd mindsets when it came to work that also involved sex.  
  
“It won’t be easy,” Jun says. “I don’t think we’d be able to meet as often as we’d like once we’re back in Tokyo. You have a busy schedule, and mine is one appointment after another. I still have to negotiate for my weekends.”  
  
Sho just smiles. “I’m positive they’ll hammer me with one project after another once I get back. But I wouldn’t ask you out if I wasn’t willing to try.”  
  
“I wouldn’t say yes if I wasn’t willing, too,” Jun clarifies.  
  
“We’re not going to rush into this,” Sho promises. Then he laughs a bit. “Though I guess we are rushing quite a bit here.” He gestures to the both of them, so close to the bed and hands on each other.  
  
“We’re not rushing,” Jun says, and he flips them so he can push Sho on the bed, placing his knees on either side of him and tilting his face up. “We’re making up for the last time. You did leave me hanging.”  
  
“Let’s hope I don’t get another cramp,” Sho jokes, and Jun kisses him to shut him up.  
  
“Don’t jinx it,” he admonishes, and Sho meets him in another kiss while laughing.  
  
They remain like that for a while, hands on each other and mouths meeting wantonly. Sho’s hands find Jun’s tie and he makes quick work on it, flinging it to their side before moving to Jun’s shirt buttons.  
  
Jun lets his hands roam, but he’s quicker and more impatient than Sho, yanking Sho’s dress shirt from his slacks and unbuttoning them starting from the bottom. He saves Sho’s tie for last, undoing it to toss it at their side.  
  
“Did we get to do this the last time?” Sho asks, pushing Jun’s shirt off his shoulders.  
  
Jun maneuvers his arms so they can discard his shirt. “No. We didn’t get to this part. But better late than never.”  
  
He stands and stops Sho with a finger between them. “Stay there. Watch.”  
  
Sho’s eyes are dark now, and he gives Jun a slow nod.  
  
“Go slowly,” Sho says when Jun’s hands hover on the buckle of his belt. “Slowly.”  
  
Jun won’t deny him. He makes a show of it, undoing the buckle slowly and going slower as he pulls the belt free from the loops. Without the belt, his slacks lower a bit, exposing his hipbones.  
  
Jun licks his lips, running a finger over the button of his slacks and moving upward, following the trail of dark hair that leads up to his navel. He pops the button open after, fingering the zipper and dragging it down slowly, just as Sho asked for.  
  
It takes Jun a couple of tries to completely lower his zipper; his erection is beginning to strain in his slacks. Seeing Sho seated on the edge of the bed, watching him open-mouthed makes heat pool in his gut. He wants to prolong this, to see what Sho would do once he gets impatient. He lets his slacks drop to the floor, stepping over them.  
  
When he meets Sho’s eyes, there’s nothing but black there.  
  
“Can I—?” Sho asks shakily, his breathing turning labored.  
  
“Yes,” Jun says, despite not knowing what Sho’s asking for.  
  
Sho reaches for him, almost knocking him off-balance, but Sho’s grip on the back of his thighs act as leverage. Jun grabs both of Sho’s shoulders as Sho presses his face against his navel, breathing him in before raining slow, torturous kisses on his skin.  
  
A gasp escapes from Jun as he shuts his eyes, hands moving to Sho’s head to have him closer. Sho’s tongue soon licks around his navel as he noses the line of hair, straying downward until he reaches the garter of Jun’s boxers.  
  
Sho’s eyes flit to meet his, and there’s an unspoken question there. It makes Jun burn for him, wetting his lips unconsciously as he stares at Sho looking up at him, silently asking for permission.  
  
He’ll probably never get tired of this view.  
  
Jun gives a barely perceptible nod, but it’s enough. Sho pops open the button of his boxers, and Jun sighs at the momentary relief as Sho frees his length from its confines. Sho strokes, slow and languid, his grip on Jun almost lax. It’s light and ticklish; Jun shudders as he sighs.  
  
“Look at me,” Sho says, breath ghosting over sensitive skin.  
  
Jun’s eyes snap open, zeroing on Sho before him, on Sho darting out a tongue to wet his lips and leave them glistening.  
  
“I want you to look at me as I do this,” Sho says.  
  
Then Sho tilts his head, compensating for the height difference by ducking down a bit. The first lick on Jun’s shaft has Jun’s eyes drifting shut, but he forces them open and watches as Sho begins sucking.  
  
Sho goes slow, letting just the tip inside his mouth, his eyes never leaving Jun’s. He gives Jun firm strokes as he moves forward, sliding his lips over Jun’s length as far as he can go.  
  
The feel of Sho’s mouth on him is making his thighs shake, all wet and hot suction that gradually increases in pace. Jun continues watching, admiring the increasing redness of Sho’s full lips. When his toes are curling, he stops Sho with a squeeze to his shoulder.  
  
Sho hollows his cheeks one last time before letting Jun’s cock slide out of his mouth, licking away the thread of saliva that clung to the tip.  
  
“Always wanted to do that,” Sho husks, helping Jun out of his underwear.  
  
“Always?”  
  
Sho presses his cheek against the inside of Jun’s thigh, inhaling deep. “Since the first rehearsal day, when you shook these hips.” Sho delivers a pinch to the crest, and Jun squirms in surprise. “Do you always dance like that?”  
  
Jun grins, giving Sho a light shove. Sho leans his weight on the heel of his palms, tilting his head as he stares at Jun’s nakedness unabashedly—greedily.  
  
“Only when you’re watching,” Jun says, hands moving to grab Sho’s belt buckle.  
  
“We’re not going slow anymore?” Sho asks with a smug smile as Jun tosses the belt behind him, fingers opening the button and fumbling with Sho’s zipper.  
  
“We’re way past slow now,” Jun says, lowering Sho’s slacks and underwear at the same time. Sho’s hard, precome pearling at the tip, and Jun can’t resist swiping his finger over the slit before sucking his finger into his mouth.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Jun promises, kissing Sho briefly. “Get to the middle of the bed.”  
  
Jun leaves to dig inside his bag for condoms and lube, items which he chucks in Sho’s direction. Sho catches the first and has to duck to avoid getting hit by the latter, and Jun laughs as he joins Sho on the bed.  
  
“Could’ve hit me,” Sho complains, then he’s not complaining anymore because Jun goes back to kissing him, their bodies aligning. Sho’s hands move to Jun’s back, clutching at his shoulders, and Jun breaks off the kiss to nip and suck at Sho’s neck.  
  
He keeps Sho distracted until Sho’s arching under him, nails digging onto his back. “Jun,” Sho is saying, and Jun nips on his earlobe.  
  
“Again,” Jun orders, licking the shell of Sho’s ear. “Say my name again.”  
  
“Jun,” Sho acquiesces, and Jun can’t help delivering a playful bite on the curve of Sho’s jaw, hiding his smile there. He likes how Sho sounds—breathy and desperate, like Sho’s aching for him and wants more but only what he’s willing to give.  
  
It makes blood rush straight to Jun’s cock. He reaches for the lube and applies some on his fingers, pulling back to show them to Sho.  
  
“Watch,” Jun says again, reaching back and bracing himself on one arm, his finger tracing his hole tentatively before sliding in. It’s a strenuous position, but Jun has always been flexible, spine curving a bit once he can move along with his finger.  
  
Sho’s hands frame his hips, serving as his anchor, and Jun moans, making sure he does it right over Sho’s mouth. Sho plants a chaste kiss to his lips, again and again as Jun prepares himself, one finger joined by another, and eventually another.  
  
It’s a slow process since Jun hasn’t been fucked in a while; it’s usually him doing the fucking. The clients who can afford him (and there weren’t a lot) often had fantasies they entrusted Jun to fulfill, and he always delivered, putting their desires first.  
  
But now that Sho’s here and he’s doing this with Sho not because of any arrangements or for any agreed price, he’s going after what he wants—what he’s always wanted. Sho in him, the two of them moving together according to the pace Jun dictates. He wants to feel Sho, have more of him, all of him if possible.  
  
When he’s loose enough, he fumbles for the condom and tears it open, telling Sho to grab the pillows and put his back against them. Jun’s about to move but Sho grips him hard on the shoulder, stopping him.  
  
There’s this hesitation in Sho’s eyes, barely there but Jun catches it. He cups Sho’s cheek and Sho turns his head to kiss his palm.  
  
“I wanted this,” Jun says, seeing Sho’s eyes clear. “I want you.”  
  
“I want you, too,” Sho tells him. “I just can’t believe it’s happening.”  
  
Sho leans in and Jun allows himself to be distracted by another kiss, but only for a couple of seconds. He pushes Sho back, maneuvering his legs so he’s kneeling on Sho’s side.  
  
Without warning, Jun ducks and wraps his mouth around Sho’s cock, hollowing his cheeks to get him sufficiently wet. He rolls the condom on and grabs the lube, sloppily slicking Sho before scrambling in place.  
  
The way Jun wants this to happen is with him sinking down on Sho’s cock, but Sho did say something about his hips earlier. Jun wants Sho to see his hips and ass while he moves, while he rides Sho until he can’t anymore. He doesn’t face Sho, instead giving the man a view of his back before reaching behind, planting one hand flat on Sho’s abdomen, the other braced on Sho’s thigh as he lowers himself. Sho’s hands grab his hips to guide him, and Jun sighs when Sho enters him, slowly stretching him.  
  
When Jun sinks to the hilt, he stills, waits for his body to adjust. He moves slowly, bracing himself on Sho’s knees when he’s built a rhythm, alternating between undulating and grinding his hips.  
  
“Jun,” he hears behind him, breathless and deep, like it spilled out of Sho unbidden.  
  
Determined to make this good for Sho, Jun leans back, placing his palms flat on the bed on Sho’s either side. Sho bends his legs under him and meets him halfway, and Jun throws his head back, unable to keep himself from groaning when Sho buries himself deeper in him.  
  
An arm ropes around his middle and tugs him down, and Jun’s hands give way, his back hitting Sho’s sweaty chest as Sho’s lips immediately latch onto his neck. They move together, Sho sliding in him over and over, obscene noises of skin against skin filling the room. Jun plants his feet on the mattress, going on tiptoes to allow Sho to move with more force inside him, and with his hand he reaches up, fisting a handful of Sho’s hair.  
  
He faces the side and Sho claims his mouth without any prompting, taking his moans for himself. Jun relishes in the sensation of being filled so perfectly, eyes shut at how good it feels. Sho’s rhythm is beginning to falter. He’s panting against Jun’s cheek, mouthing wetly at the corner of Jun’s mouth.  
  
Then Sho slots his hand between their faces, and Jun watches in a daze as Sho licks his own palm before it disappears, only for Sho to reach for Jun’s cock and stroke him in time with their movements.  
  
Jun no longer holds back, using his legs for leverage, lifting his hips just a little for Sho to be able to fuck him harder while Sho’s hand keeps jerking him off. His thighs tingle and he’s panting, his ears hearing nothing but the frenzied collision of their sweaty bodies.  
  
“Come,” Jun says, and it ends in a choked groan.  
  
“With me,” Sho breathes against his neck.  
  
Sho twists his wrist just right, and Jun arches, head thrown back in a groan as his orgasm gets wrenched out of him. His mind becomes full of nothing but a series of _yes_ , his vision snapping away as he momentarily enters a state of pure bliss and contentment. He barely notices Sho finishing right with him, if not for the deep baritone of Sho’s voice shakily uttering his name.  
  
They remain like that for a while, tangled and exhausted but satisfied. Jun inhales, smells the musky scent of sex, and he allows himself to bask in the afterglow for much longer since Sho’s not yet complaining.  
  
“Jun.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“You’re really heavy,” Sho grunts.  
  
“You weren’t complaining about that earlier,” Jun says, but he moves anyway, sighing a little when Sho’s cock slips out of him. He takes care not to roll on his stomach, not wanting to dirty the sheets further. His release clings to his abdomen and he’s beginning to feel sticky and uncomfortable, his joints popping when he sits up and stretches his arms behind his head.  
  
“Do that again,” Sho orders, voice deep. He’s still lying flat on his back, still wearing the condom. It’s a comical sight, but Jun holds back his laughter in favor of asking.  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“That,” Sho says, lips twitching. “That stretch you just did.”  
  
Jun obliges, adding some neck twists for spontaneity, and he hears Sho laugh tiredly.  
  
“That’s really hot,” Sho tells him, a shy smile forming on his face.  
  
Jun only gives him an amused look. So great sex makes Sho honest. “When you’re done lazing around, join me in the shower.” He leaves Sho in bed, groaning when his legs ache a bit as he walks.  
  
He’s barely got the water running when Sho enters the shower, and Jun immediately turns to lace his arms around Sho’s neck, dragging him under the spray as they share another kiss. Sho holds his face when they break apart, and Jun combs some of Sho’s hair back to see his eyes.  
  
“I once asked if you enjoy the company of those who hired you and you didn’t answer,” Sho says. He angles his head away from the shower spray, studying Jun’s face. “If I ask it again, right now, will you tell me the truth?”  
  
“Why do you want to know?” Jun asks back, keeping his hands busy by playing with Sho’s wet hair. Sho’s got a large forehead, one that makes Jun smile because without his fringe covering it, he looks older.  
  
“I want to know what makes you happy in your line of work,” Sho reasons. “It can’t just be the money. You told me you get lonely easily.”  
  
Jun looks away, and he feels Sho’s fingers applying pressure on his cheeks. He relents with a sigh, facing Sho once more. “I can’t believe you remember that.”  
  
“Do you truly enjoy their company? Or do you enjoy it because they keep you from being lonely?”  
  
“Are you indirectly asking if I’m really happy to be with you?” Jun asks, looking right into Sho’s eyes. “Sho-san. We’ve had a misunderstanding over this the last time. If there’s something you want to know, don’t go the long way and just tell me.”  
  
“It’s been a while for me, Jun,” Sho says as a reminder. He lets out a quiet chuckle. “I’m still not used to calling you that.”  
  
“You called me that multiple times a while ago,” Jun husks, leaning forward to nip at the angle of Sho’s jaw. “I like it. I like it when you say my name. And just to get us back on topic, yes, I know it’s been some time for you. I’m not rushing you. But after all we just did, after that fuck we just had—”  
  
Sho’s laughing now, his shoulders shaking.  
  
“—you can’t just join me in the shower and ask if I really wanted it, if I truly want this. That’s stupid and it doesn’t make sense.” Jun traces Sho’s laugh lines with his thumbs. “I enjoy your company not because I’m prone to loneliness. I enjoy your company because I like being with you.”  
  
“Not because you like me?” Sho teases, poking his side.  
  
Jun squirms as a reaction, giving Sho a playful shove. “Don’t push it.”  
  
“Satoshi-kun said you like me,” Sho says, sounding smug now. “Are you saying he’s a liar? Aiba-chan too?”  
  
“Who told Aiba-san?” Jun demands.  
  
“Ah so it’s true!” Sho says, pointing at him.  
  
Jun can’t believe he fell for a cheap trick like that. “Come here,” he says, grabbing Sho by the hips and cupping his jaw, angling his face towards the shower spray. Sho resists, still laughing, elbowing Jun’s side and tickling him as a result, making him step back.  
  
Before he realizes it, Sho’s on him, wrapping an arm around his body to push him towards the spray. They continue at it, trying to get the other choke on water without slipping, and because Sho seems to know where to poke to make Jun let go, Jun soon finds himself pressed against the shower tiles, Sho gripping his wrists tight.  
  
“Didn’t think you’d be defeated that easily,” Sho says, laughing again at his face.  
  
“Once I free myself from here, you’re getting it,” Jun threatens, but it’s mostly empty since he does like the feeling of Sho crowding in his space, the two of them so close despite the shower being big enough to fit four.  
  
Sho just smiles. “I like you too,” he says suddenly.  
  
It’s one thing to know and another thing to hear, and Jun can only take so much before he gives in to a relieved chuckle. He finally hears it from Sho himself. Sho, the type who beats around the bush when he’s nervous, finally tells him what he’s always wanted to hear.  
  
“That being said,” Sho adds, leaning closer to whisper in his ear, “your studded pompom shoes are very ugly.”  
  
That did it. Jun frees himself from Sho’s grip and maneuvers Sho’s body, directs Sho’s face under the shower spray.  
  
His laughter reverberates against the shower tiles when Sho splutters.  
  
\--  
  
Sho’s on his stomach on the bed by the time Jun emerges from the bathroom. After their joint decision that they can’t take a bath together since they’re unable to keep their hands off each other, Sho left for the tub and cleaned himself there while Jun used the shower.  
  
The sheets have been changed and Sho’s on his phone, but he opted to lie around naked, displaying his bare ass in Jun’s direction as he scrolls through what Jun assumes to be food reviews.  
  
It’s a view Jun can get used to.  
  
“All my clothes are still at Aiba-chan’s,” Sho says without looking at him, still fixated on his phone.  
  
“That’s okay,” Jun reassures him. “You’re not going to need them anytime soon.”  
  
Jun discards his bathrobe and joins Sho on the bed, situating himself right on top of Sho’s body and hooking his chin on Sho’s shoulder.  
  
“I knew you were looking up what we can eat,” Jun says, smiling when he sees a colorful menu of a local restaurant along with a star rating on each meal.  
  
“I feel like the wedding dinner was days ago,” Sho tells him.  
  
Instead of replying, Jun proceeds to kiss the descent of Sho’s shoulder. Sho smells fresh, his skin smooth and cool under Jun’s lips. He travels lower, hearing Sho sigh contentedly.  
  
“I’m going to call a restaurant now,” Sho says.  
  
“Go ahead,” Jun murmurs in between kisses.  
  
When he hears Sho switch to english as he speaks with a restaurant staff, he proceeds to lick at the dip between Sho’s shoulder blades, smiling at Sho’s answering shudder. Sho looks over his shoulder and gives him a pointed look, and Jun just smirks, a finger hovering on his own lips.  
  
“Wouldn’t want to scandalize whoever you’re talking to,” he whispers before licking the patch of skin under his lips. Jun wouldn’t mind doing another body shots right now, only that this time, he gets to taste Sho’s back instead of his front. But then again, this is much more fun when there’s no alcohol involved and he’s completely sober; he can hear every little noise Sho tries hard to suppress.  
  
“Yes,” Sho says in english, and it sounds like a hiss, making Jun smile against the crest of Sho’s hip. “Two orders of that, please.”  
  
Jun lets his lips linger, brushing over the dimples on Sho’s ass. He can’t help squeezing a buttock, liking how plump it feels in his hand. Above him, Sho doesn’t quite manage to suppress a shiver, knuckles turning white around his phone.  
  
Jun crawls back up so he can whisper in Sho’s ear, “I want to try something.”  
  
Sho only throws a questioning look at him, and Jun drops a quick kiss to Sho’s temple. “It’ll be good, trust me.”  
  
“Fine,” Sho says in the corner of his mouth, covering the phone so the mic can’t pick it up. He’s still finalizing their order, and Jun scrambles to get in place.  
  
He gives each of Sho’s asscheeks an appreciative squeeze, spreads them, and ducks, pressing his tongue against the crack. Sho jolts in surprise but Jun holds him in place, licking around the ring of muscle while still listening for Sho’s reactions.  
  
Jun hears something like “16.95 dollars, yes,” uttered so breathlessly that he almost laughs. He wonders what Sho sounds like to whoever he’s speaking to because Jun is particularly adamant about undoing him.  
  
When Jun lifts his head, he sees Sho casting the phone aside and glaring at him.  
  
“Were you trying to make me come while I was on the phone?” Sho demands, but it lacks bite.  
  
Jun blinks innocently. “I told you it’d be good. You liked it, didn’t you?”  
  
“That’s not the point.”  
  
Jun laughs. “Oh Sho-san,” he says, fond and amused. He crawls back up, slotting his face in the junction between Sho’s neck and shoulder once more.  
  
“Say,” Sho begins, and Jun just hums in question, “would you charge me if I ask you to fuck me?”  
  
Jun can’t help sinking his teeth into the meat of Sho’s shoulder playfully, hiding his pleased grin there. “Since you asked nicely, it’s for free.”  
  
Sho lifts his hand in front of them, revealing a condom packet he’s got trapped between his index and middle fingers. Jun laughs, swipes the condom from Sho and kisses his cheek in thanks. He pulls back a little to pick up the lube from the nightstand, then he gets to work, putting his knees on either side of Sho while slicking his fingers.  
  
“The delivery will arrive in ten minutes, by the way,” Sho informs him, sighing when Jun slips a finger inside. “Scratch that, we’ve only got nine minutes.”  
  
“Then we’ll fuck fast,” Jun promises, and he starts scissoring.  
  
Soon Sho’s rolled over onto his back, the pillow Jun had as a barrier between them in those other nights now placed under his hips, acting as support while Jun drives into him. Sho’s nails are embedded on his biceps, scratching and marking, making Jun hiss in combined pain and pleasure.  
  
“Harder,” Sho begs. “Oh just like that, _Jun_ —”  
  
Jun bites onto Sho’s clavicle, knowing he found the right angle. Sho’s repeatedly moaning his name, not caring if his voice is too loud and will echo should anyone approach their door, and Jun finds that he doesn’t give a damn either.  
  
Delivery guy or not, they can wait until he and Sho are done.  
  
Jun’s close since it’s the second time for tonight and Sho feels absolutely perfect around him. It doesn’t take him much, just a choked groan from Sho as he clenches around Jun. When Jun eases himself out, he doesn’t go far.  
  
He takes Sho into his mouth, sucking him off messily, intent on getting him off quickly. Sho lets out another loud moan, fingers tangling in Jun’s locks and tugging until Jun feels warmth flood his mouth. He pulls back a bit to have all of it, dropping a parting kiss to the tip before he looms over Sho once more.  
  
“One day,” Sho huffs, tracing his mouth, “I’m going to kiss all the marks on your body.”  
  
Before Jun can comment on Sho being silly after good sex, their doorbell rings.  
  
That would be the delivery. Jun’s amazed at how fast that spontaneous round was; they still made it on time.  
  
“I’m not getting that,” Jun says before Sho can make any demands, rolling on his back to strip off the condom. “I’m not the one who ordered it.”  
  
Sho groans, but he gets up anyway, picking up Jun’s bathrobe and wrapping it around himself.  
  
“How do I look?” Sho asks, and Jun laughs. Sho’s still flushed, skin still glistening with sweat, his hair mussed and mouth swollen from Jun’s kisses.  
  
It’s way too late for modesty.  
  
“Freshly fucked,” Jun answers honestly.  
  
Sho’s cheeks grow a bit more pinkish, but he heads to the door anyway, much to Jun’s delight. When Jun braces himself on his forearms to take a peek, he sees that Sho only opened the door halfway and is handing over the money without looking at the delivery person.  
  
He laughs, truly amused at the sight. He hears the door closing and Sho picks up a cushion from the couch to fling it to his face.  
  
“I think that guy could totally smell the sex off me,” Sho says, clicking his tongue. “Stop laughing.”  
  
But Jun can’t help it, hiding his face behind the back of his hand as he gives in to another chuckle.  
  
“We’re totally doing that again,” Jun says as he sits up, accepting the chopsticks from Sho. Sho’s choice of a midnight meal led to their room smelling like sweat, sex, and soba—an unlikely combination which also feels very Sho.  
  
“We’re not,” Sho says, slurping his noodles and letting out a happy sigh, his cheeks bloated. Jun missed seeing him eat; Sho always ate with gusto, like everything is delicious for him and he’s thankful for the meal regardless of what it is.  
  
“We can call for room service next time,” Jun suggests, throwing in a wink in Sho’s direction.  
  
“Jun, has anyone ever told you that your sex drive seems uncontainable?”  
  
“Says the guy begging me earlier. I never heard you say no.”  
  
“That’s because you’re a bad influence,” Sho retorts, but there’s already a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  
  
“I think you like that about me.”


	5. Epilogue

**Nearly a year, approximately ten months later:**  
  
“I’m not doing this.”  
  
Behind him, Jun groans, but it also sounds like he’s laughing a bit.  
  
“We’re already here, Sho-san,” Jun says, his voice a bit loud since they can hear the engines of the skydive craft whirring. “We’re here and you’re saying that?”  
  
“I keep telling you that I can’t do this!” Sho insists, shaking his head.  
  
It was Jun’s idea, that for Christmas, they can try something fun. Sho, while knowing that Jun’s idea of fun frequently involved thrill rides that make him sick, didn’t think it’d go this far. But Jun can be very convincing when he’s determined, eventually making Sho say yes when Sho was so deliriously lost in pleasure that he simply agreed to anything Jun asked of him.  
  
Which brings them here, a thousand feet above Waialua. It was Sho who wanted to go back to Hawaii, wanting to spend his first Christmas with Jun in the place where they got together. It’s silly and cheesy. It’s something Jun teased him mercilessly for, but Jun’s a not-so-secret sap that Sho got him to agree after Jun’s had his laugh.  
  
But Sho didn’t want them to skydive. He didn’t.  
  
“I can’t do this, Jun,” Sho says, shaking his head fiercely.  
  
“I’m right here,” Jun tells him, patting on the contraption that keeps them attached to each other. Sho’s afraid to jump alone since he’s acrophobic and has no skydiving experience. In fact, Sho’s afraid to jump. Period.  
  
“Can’t we just take a boat ride?” Sho tries, trying to back away from the door, but of course Jun is resisting, keeping his feet firmly planted on the floor.  
  
“We’re almost at the drop point and you’re telling me that?” Jun wraps an arm around his torso, holding him in place. “Come on. It’ll be over before you know it.”  
  
“I’m going to die,” Sho says, entirely convinced of it.  
  
“No you won’t,” Jun reassures him. “Now turn your head towards me so I can kiss you.”  
  
Sho knows it’s another attempt to take his mind off his current predicament, but he looks over his shoulder anyway, pushing his goggles up his forehead. There’s still that plunge in his gut whenever he sees Jun’s smile right before Jun kisses him, adding a little tongue but pulling back before they can get carried away.  
  
“You need to stop using your mouth to distract me,” Sho complains, putting his goggles back on.  
  
“Says the person who _always_ uses his mouth to distract me,” Jun shoots back.  
  
Sho lets his head rest against Jun’s shoulder, pouting. “Ten months. Ten months together and I really should have known you’d choose to do something like this to celebrate it.”  
  
“We’ve been through a lot in those ten months,” Jun reminds him. “Got to make it special.”  
  
That’s true, now that Sho looks back on it. The first few months were tough for the both of them. Their schedules hardly matched in those months, and when they finally did, it felt like they had to learn how to navigate around each other once more.  
  
To avoid misunderstandings and miscommunication, Sho made a rule that they’d never go to bed angry with each other.  
  
Which made Jun put forth another rule since he didn’t like losing: if, during an argument, one of them moves to leave, the other mustn’t let him.  
  
Which made Sho supplement that with another rule, though it’s mostly directed to himself: they’d give each other time to listen what the other has to say. This made Jun raise an amused eyebrow at him, but he said nothing, only smiled knowingly.  
  
Those rules were sometimes hard to adhere to, especially when they reached the fifth month and Sho had decided to ask Jun to come live with him. Back then Jun had hesitated, not wanting to leave his place, but eventually he relented albeit to a different scenario. They bought a place together, a little further from both of their workplaces but theirs all the same.  
  
On some days, Sho would have a rough day at work and he’d come home to Jun being cranky because work wasn’t kind to him too, and they’d resolve not to talk to each other. Sometimes Jun would be angry at Sho for overwriting on his unwatched TV recordings and would exact revenge by putting too much pepper on Sho’s eggs or adding too much milk on Sho’s coffee, knowing Sho prefers it black.  
  
One time, when they fought over who broke Jun’s prized water filter, Sho left the apartment to seek refuge at Nino’s, taking the train to allow himself to cool down.  
  
Only to find Jun in Nino’s place (because Jun always takes the car with him), already waiting for him with a box of cheesecake. They ended up sharing that cheesecake with Nino (who kept complaining that he’s not their couple therapist but ate a slice anyway) before heading home together to have some make-up sex.  
  
It’s not perfect. There are days in which Sho finds a post-it stuck to his forehead that says _TONE IT DOWN_ with more than three exclamation points, and he pads to the living room to discover that Jun is sleeping on the couch. Sho always assumes it’s about his snoring and proceeds to make up for it by watering Jun’s bonsai, which Sho affectionately refers to as Macchan despite Jun insisting that there’s no way that’d be the name.  
  
But even if it’s not the domestic bliss Sho often hears about, it’s okay. They have rough days, but they go through it together. They compromise and sometimes they still lose their cool with each other. Regardless, they try their best to stick to their rules. Jun remains as the one person whom Sho doesn’t mind showing his tears in front of, especially when they watch Titanic.  
  
Better Titanic than penguins, is what Jun always says to tease him.  
  
Jun reaches for his hand, entwining their fingers. “I won’t let go. I promise.”  
  
Now it’s Sho’s turn to laugh. “You sound like Rose.”  
  
Without looking, he knows Jun is rolling his eyes. “I’d rather be Rose. She survived the sinking.”  
  
“I might pee in my pants,” Sho says, hoping it will deter Jun. “Really.”  
  
“Disgusting,” Jun comments, but he’s laughing anyway. He lives through Sho’s bad habits and snoring—nothing can surprise him anymore. “Count with me.”  
  
“One,” Sho says, heart leaping to his throat at the sight of the skydive craft’s door sliding open. Just beyond is a clear blue sky and the island of Hawaii, looking like it’s merely waiting for them.  
  
“We’ll go on three,” Jun promises, holding his hand tight.  
  
“Two,” Sho says, but it ends in a scream because Jun suddenly jumps off the plane, taking Sho with him. “Jun, you idiot, that was two!”  
  
Whatever Jun’s saying gets lost to the rushing wind hitting Sho’s face. Sho keeps his eyes shut, squeezing Jun’s hand tightly, not minding if he crushes the bones there.  
  
Jun squeezes back, and soon, Sho hears the unmistakable sound of Jun’s spirited laughter.  
  
It’s the sweetest sound there is.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, there are stuff in this story that are references and here’s a short and incomplete list of it:
> 
>   * The line “You never called me that before” is an actual Jun quote from the 11/13/2016 MC of Are You Happy tour in Sapporo Dome, something he said when Sho called him by his name alone. [Here’s the concert report](https://twitter.com/ara1933s/status/797737416761057280) from that time.
>   * The indirect kiss was from the 03/08/2010 Arashi no Shukudai-kun, but instead of Aiba, it was Nino who clarified stuff.
>   * The description regarding children (funny and cute) was lifted from Jun’s list of things that make him happy.
>   * All the Ariyoshi lines are references to his accusations during Jun’s appearances on Yakai.
>   * The counting at the end is a reference to training camp.
>   * And lastly, all the Titanic references are because Sho and Jun saw this movie together. You can check that out here in [this interview](http://say-it-again.livejournal.com/121710.html).
> 

> 
> ETA (10/21/2017): This fic got a couple of amazing art by rochi, which you can find [here](https://rochiii.livejournal.com/5072.html)! Seriously, she deserves all the cute Nino for this! Thank you! ♥


End file.
